《Red Jasmine》 1. Wild Leaves taste better. Seng Nu could have taken any fruit from this tree, but the most difficult one to reach would taste the sweetest. She outstretched her arms to keep balance as she walked along the branch, rocking and bouncing her body to match the wind that was flying and knotting itself around the trunks and branches of the upper canopy. Down on the ground, a squirrel imagined he saw the upper levels of the apple tree on fire. It was just Seng Nu¡¯s hair, long and unnaturally red, billowing out behind her. Last summer she had swum against the river from the curve to the old bridge and in the cold season just passed she had scrambled to the summit of the eastern mountain in two days. She liked to set herself these tasks. All by herself and always by herself. ¡°I found you on a peapod, sitting on a vine¡±. That was what Naw Naw had always told her. Today, the challenge she had set herself was to pluck this apple. This particular one was on a branch so high that it poked above the forest canopy, as if it was craning to see further than all its brother and sister apples. Seng Nu looked down as she creeped along the branch. The ground looked to be as far away as the horizon, but she had no fear of heights. She stretched an arm up but she could only graze the apple with her fingers. HRRROOOOOOONNNN!!!! The distraction snatched her body¡¯s concentration away from the tree and she lost her balance, wobbling hopelessly. Then she was off, falling from the very top of the forest to the earth below. A bed of leaves and branches rose up from the ground to catch her and she bounced a little as she fell into them. It sailed back down to the forest floor and she sprung out onto her feet as it reached the ground. The bed collapsed into sticks and leaves that lay still on the floor, indistinguishable from any other. Seng Nu brushed herself off and looked up. The apple was smirking at her. She heard the roar again. Clearer this time. HROOOON! It was coming from far away in the forest, but it still seemed nearer than the first time. Of course all roars were signs of danger, but there was something in this sound that made it more dangerous than most. It was a sound like a knife with serrated edges. Seng Nu began running to meet the sound. Elsewhere in the forest Jin Bu¡¯s forefinger stroked Zaw¡¯s palm, feeling her way along the dry riverbeds of his skin. ¡°Your hands have become rough.¡± ¡°That is what happens when you work around elephants,¡± said Zaw ¡°when you pull ropes and chains all day, your hide becomes as tough and cracked as theirs.¡± ¡°And what will happen to your nose?¡± A tease flashed in Zaw¡¯s eyes and he reached round with his free hand to gently tweak Jin Bu¡¯s nose between his thumb and forefinger. ¡°It will grow long, almost as big as yours.¡± Jin Bu slapped him playfully on the chest, frowning in mock indignation. Then she stopped, letting go of Zaw¡¯s hand and with a concerned look reached up to touch her face. ¡°Is my nose really that big?¡± Zaw laughed. ¡°I¡¯m just joking with you Jin Bu! Your nose is perfectly normal sized. It¡¯s smaller than an elephant¡¯s and larger than a dormouse¡¯s.¡± Jin Bu wrinkled her nose and took Zaw¡¯s hand and they continued their walk down the forest path. ¡°You should dip your hands in honey, that¡¯s a good way to stop them from being so cracked.¡± ¡°And what would the men in the camp say if they saw me walking around with honey on my hands like a bear raiding a beehive?¡± ¡°They¡¯d say ¡®what soft hands that young man has¡¯ and give you a promotion!¡± Jin Bu laughed and skipped ahead letting her hands skim through the lowest hanging branches. With her slender frame and light brown complexion she looked like a sapling among these sturdy old trees. Her dark hung long and loose so when she jumped it bounced and dropped like rocks going over a waterfall. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense, Jin, It¡¯ll be a year at least before I get to try out as a full oozie, and my hands will need to get more chaffed if I¡¯m to stand any chance.¡± Unlike Jin Bu, Zaw was no willow. Since he had begun working as a trainee at Buttersweet, a year ago, he had grown wider and bulkier, his arms in particular taking on muscle from the heavy labour that came with the He was still too young and inexperienced to be a rider, but he did everything else, from cleaning and feeding to attaching the ropes to both the elephants and the timber logs. The work had defined his body and like a mature teak tree, he was sturdy enough to lean against, which Jin Bu often did as they walked, her head resting on his shoulder as they strolled in perfect time with each other. His hair was almost as long as hers, but as someone who lived and worked in the forest he had learned quickly to tie it up into a knot after a few unhappy encounters with the sticky and thorny things that loved to betangle it. Jin Bu stopped jumping and looked back at him ¡°And then what will you do?¡± her voice dipped and rose in a singsong voice as she asked the question. She had asked it many times before, and never grew tired of the answer she knew was coming. Zaw knew his part and he too spoke with a slightly exaggerated lilt in his voice, as if he was a player on a stage. ¡°And then I¡¯ll save up jade for a few years, ride into town on a bull elephant and carry you off to the mountains where we¡¯ll live like bandits!¡± With a last flourish, he ran towards her and lifted her up by the waist, spinning her around as she giggled. They were old children. Close to their eighteenth year, but they still spoke lightly of the future. To talk about it seriously would mean confronting the law of the Valley, which said that there was no alignment for marriage between a woman from Jin Bu¡¯s clan and a man from Zaw¡¯s. So they had become a secret growing into each other, meeting deep in the forest between Buttersweet and Blackstone village. The future they spoke of, in practised voices, was not a lie, but a story they had wrapped in a thin thread of hope. ¡°Do you think the birds care for who they marry?¡± They had reached the curved section of the forest stream where the water was shallow. There was a hint of urgency in Zaw¡¯s voice, as though they might both grow too old the second he crossed the water and headed back to camp. He wanted to confront the injustice of the clan system. Wanted to talk about it at least. ¡°Oh so I am a bird am I?¡± Jin Bu replied playfully, trying to steer the conversation away from the edge, ¡°A little sparrow who fell into your hands? Perhaps you should have let me go and waited for a sunbird or a peacock instead.¡± Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°Yes a little sparrow...with not much meat on the bones.¡± Zaw found it too easy to tease her. Jin Bu punched him lightly on the shoulder. ¡°I thought the Tairu were good hunters.¡± ¡°We are!¡± said Zaw, puffing his chest out. ¡°But the best hunters are not only concerned with the amount of meat, but the taste too.¡± Jin Bu spun around to face Zaw and stood on her tiptoes, her hands resting on his forearms and brought her face up to his. ¡°And how do I taste?¡± Zaw looked at her for a while, trying his best to make a memory of the outline of her face, curving like an upright mango or a falling raindrop. Then he leaned in for a kiss and she closed her eyes in assent. Yet, he tilted his head at the last moment to lightly take the lobe of her left ear between his teeth. ¡°Hey!¡± shouted Jin Bu, her face flushed, a little louder than she wanted to. ¡°You don¡¯t like that?¡± Said Zaw, a note of concern in his voice. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that¡± said Jin Bu, looking back at him, trying to hold back her smile for as long as possible. Her body went rigid. Dampened voices were coming from further down the stream. Neither of them wanted to explain to anyone what they were doing in the forest together. ¡°I better go for now.¡± They kissed briefly and then their hands ran down each other¡¯s arms as they walked away from each other, until only the fingertips touched and finally they were separated. Zaw waded across the water and looked back at her as he reached the far bank. He pinched the lobe of his ear. ¡°Bananas!¡± he shouted. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You taste of bananas!¡± He then turned and disappeared into the trees, and his beaming smile seemed to hang in the air after him. Jin Bu walked back along the path, her heart lightly bouncing in her chest in satisfaction at a risk well taken. Already she missed Zaw and was looking forward to the next time he left jasmine flowers by her window, the signal for her to sneak out to the forest to meet him. She walked down the path until she came to an apple tree, in fact it was the only apple tree in the entire forest. Although the central bough was lower than most of the other mature trees, the branches still stretched up, all twisted and knotted as they fought valiantly for sunlight. Behind the tree was a small open grove and Jin Bu knew that beyond that grove was a patch of gourds whose leaves would be coming into plucking season just about now. ¡°Wild leaves taste better¡±. That was what she had said when her family had asked why she was going to the forest this morning, and as she pulled her foot free of another vine that had wrapped itself around her foot she began to understand why some of them had tried to dissuade her. Some parts of the forest were so thick and so rarely used it was hard to see any recognisable path on the ground. You simply walked wherever the trees let you. She ran a hand through her hair and it came out with a seed pod stuck to it which wouldn¡¯t let go no matter how hard she shook it. She brought her free hand to brush it off, which only succeeded in getting the burr stuck to that hand. Then as she walked forward her foot became caught in yet another vine and it pulled her whole body back as she tried to walk on. A crow sitting in a nearby tree chuckled and then flew back to its family to tell them a new story about the human with the strange new hand and leg shaking dance. She finally managed to flick the sticky pod from her hand and set her basket down near a patch of gourd leaves. While the gourds themselves were too small or too bitter at this time of year, the leaves were just right and whether it was the soil, the water or the vast canopy that gave a protective shade dappled with shafts of sunshine, the wild ones really did taste better. Some called them butter of the earth and boiled in a soup or curry made it a meal you would remember for the whole month that followed. She knelt down and began to strim the leaves for her basket. HROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN! She froze at the sound. She heard an immense, chaotic, anger running through the forest and it was coming straight for her. Earlier that Morning. Pinkwetha was sure it wasn¡¯t his birthday. But he did not think too long about pesky things such as reasons why when Jakan and Sotha came to him that morning with an entire branch of bananas, flower and all, and a stack of juicy yellow persimmons. Danh arrived too and began to massage his shoulders as Pinkwetha ate out of the other¡¯s hands. He could tell from the slightly musty smell that the bananas had been cut the night before but he didn¡¯t mind as they were still deliciously squidgy. The persimmons were an exotic type he had never tasted before, a treat in itself. They were so sweet he took a leisurely time with each one, sucking them clean to the skin and then performatively spitting out the seed along his rolled tongue. He was so caught up in his own gluttony he didn¡¯t notice that with each mouthful, Jakan and Sutring were taking a step back and his greed was following. Danh walked alongside, patting and rubbing him in encouragement as his hands kneaded the thick ropes of sinewy muscle in Pinkwetha¡¯s back. He was still a teenager and not yet a full worker. Occasionally he might help with portering pots and pans back and forth from the camp to the inner forest, but he could not really complain of sore muscles at his age like his uncles did. But he was enjoying the massage and the breakfast feast so much he did not stop to wonder why he was being treated so kindly. Perhaps it was his birthday after all, though he remembered his seventeenth had been a rainy one and today the sky was cloudless and blue. The two men who had been carrying fruit suddenly climbed over a short bamboo fence. It was then that Pinkwetha realised there were fences at his sides too. He turned his head to ask Danh for help but Danh had gone and when he tried to walk back he found that a gate had been shut against his rear. He was pinned in tight like a stone in a mango. They had led him into a pen. Betrayal clouded the air like thick pollen as more familiar faces appeared through the gaps in the bamboo, apologies falling from their mouths but an unmistakable mirth in their eyes. And then came the ultimate indignation. He had grown up in a camp where all his aunties and uncles had carried the men to and from the forest to collect fallen trees, but he had still not been prepared for the sheer humiliation of a man sitting on his back for the first time. To make things worse it had been young Jakan, who he had known since they were children, who made the first attempt to ride him. Pinkwetha bucked and writhed in a fury trying to shake the boy off. It worked and Jakan went flying. But he never came down. Pinkwetha was so tightly caught in the pen he could not look up but in front of him he saw a group of men tugging a rope that went up into the trees and realised that Jakan was on the other end of the rope and they were lifting him up to safety each time he bucked. At full charge he could have broken this pen in one hit, but he could not run, only bend his neck and butt the sides of the pen. Over and over again he butted the fence, no longer caring about the men who were taking turns to sit on his back in their attempt to break him in. He was too angry to care about anything other than damage. Most elephants would have given up sooner or later, but perhaps there was something special about those bananas from earlier because Pinkwetha would not give up. Steam and dust were rising in a fury inside the pen as the young elephant wailed and bashed the sides in a rage. He must have hit them well over a hundred times and soon enough, there was a cracking sound. One stick of bamboo, just a little thinner than the rest, snapped. He carried on, butting the fence, breaking more sticks. He was the river and the pen was a failing dam. The smirks on the mens¡¯ faces were beginning to sink into frowns of concern. They were off and running away to their huts as he dug his small tusks into the final gaps and then with a sudden jerk, twisted his head, crushing the sticks against each other and shattering the pen wall. Pinkwetha ran out in a rage and kicked out his back legs as he broke free from the pen. The men had all disappeared, except Jakan who had been left dangling in the air high above the pen, a pathetic pleading expression on his face as he caught the elephant¡¯s angry eyes. He was too high to reach so Pinkwetha ignored him and ran towards the forest in a rage. As he charged out of the camp he passed a grove of bananas and recalled the now tainted memory of this morning''s breakfast. The tricks of men! He was hungry for nothing but destruction and even the trees seemed to tilt out of his way to clear a path for him as he charged through the forest in a rage that blanketed his senses. He let out a warning roar that sounded like strangled thunder. HROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!! All he saw, heard and felt in his bones was anger. 2. End of the Rampage The vines were whipping around his legs as he ran, but they were not holding Zaw back. He moved so fast his feet were almost skimming over the surface of the forest floor, which had been flattened by the beast he was chasing. When he had arrived back to the camp he had seen the smashed wood and the slightly sheepish expression of the men who shrugged their shoulders when he asked them which way the elephant had gone. He knew Pinkwetha well, and on a normal day could have tracked the young elephant based on footprints alone, but as he passed the crushed hedges and saplings bent at unnatural angles, it was clear where the young elephant was going. Even the elder, larger trees had wounds to their bark, bleeding with sap where Pinkwetha had scraped past them on his rampage. His heart filled with dread each time the trail turned, as it seemed like a cruel chance that Pinkwetha was charging towards the one place in this whole wide forest Zaw didn¡¯t want him to: the grove by the apple tree, where he knew Jin Bu would be collecting gourd leaves. He reached the grove just as Pinkwetha smashed himself into the base of the apple tree¡¯s base. Jin Bu was above, clinging to a higher branch. Pinkwetha must have seen her and was now trying to bring the whole tree down. He¡¯d seen elephants this size bring down ones much bigger. Pinkwetha turned and trotted back to the far side of the grove. Zaw ran to the tree, knowing that the elephant was preparing to charge again. The young elephant did not have any grudge against Jin Bu in particular. But in the state that he was in, still furious and humiliated about the attempt to sit on his back, he was directing his anger and revenge against any human he could find. ¡°Zaw!¡± shouted Jin Bu. Pinkwetha was across the grove and was turning. ¡°Hold on! He¡¯s coming back¡±. Zaw waved his hands as the young elephant prepared its charge, stomping its feet and snorting steam from its nostrils. ¡°Hey big butt! Come on I¡¯m here!¡± he shouted, hoping the elephant would follow him. But he finally had to jump out the way as the young bull ignored him and smashed into the tree again with a deep boom. There was a cracking sound as the base began to cleave. Jin Bu felt the world stumble as the branch she was wrapped around tilted and began to swing, It would only take one more hit before it fell and sent Jin Bu falling to the ground. Pinkwetha had sauntered back through the grove and let out an ear drenching battle wail as he turned around again. Zaw ran again, this time directly at the elephant, shouting and jumping, trying to make his body wide. This time Pinkwetha saw him. Zaw caught the lightning flash in his eyes and ran, the elephant had turned and was now bounding behind him. ¡°Run away!¡± he shouted to Jin Bu without looking back. He ran through the forest jumping over roots and looping around trees. Zaw could not beat the elephant in a straight race, but he could try to use his relative nimbleness to make it difficult for the beast to catch up. Zaw ran out of the apple tree grove and the elephant followed. Zaw was running for his life, but the further he ran, the more certain he was that Jin Bu would be safe. Giant feet were thumping like drums behind him and an awful wail pierced his ears. He reached a thicket of bamboo and weaved through the thick grass but the young elephant simply put his head down and smashed a direct path to Zaw. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The elephant¡¯s head rammed into his back, and then he felt the shock of split muscle as one of the stubby sharp tusks pierced and tore into his legs. The elephant shook his head and Zaw felt the bones in his leg break as if they were sticks of bamboo in a poorly built fence. Pinkwetha knew Zaw, and any other day he would have counted him among his favourite men of the camp, but anger had captured his senses and he only saw prey. He screamed a victory wail and a horrible note of death hung in the air as he lifted his leg over Zaw¡¯s prone body. ¡°HEY!¡± A shape like wildfire burst out of the trees. Pinkwetha turned his head to see where the sound was coming from, his right leg still hovering in the air above Zaw. ¡°MOVE!¡± said the figure and Zaw, understanding that this was a command to him rather than the elephant, gritted his teeth in pain as he rolled away from under the foot. The shape came into view above him. It was a girl. Zaw saw she was around the same age as him and so was surprised not to recognise her. With dark skin the colour of upturned earth, and hair like embers she was like a flaming torch as she jumped from tree to tree with a gliding, spinning grace. With a twist and a flip she landed on her feet in front of the elephant. ¡°COME ON!¡± Zaw, who could barely stand, let alone walk, was about to respond that he could barely stand, let alone walk when he realised that the girl was addressing the elephant. Pinkwetha looked at the girl and then down to see the empty ground where Zaw had been and let out another rage filled cry, and bounded towards the girl, who did not seem worried at all. She jumped back and grabbed the trunk of a nearby tree with both hands and swung her body around it to the other side. Zaw watched, and wondered if he was dreaming as she bent her knees, and bringing her feet up to the trunk, pushed off with a kick that brought the entire tree crashing down on the enraged elephant who then collapsed with a grunt under its weight. The girl immediately ran to the elephant, who was now lying defeated but calm under the broken tree. She stroked the thick hide of his head and whispered something in his ears. Pinkwetha was already asleep as she stood up, the anger had subsided and the muscles in his face had loosened. Zaw had been in unfeeling shock but pain surged through his leg and back as his body remembered he had just been run over by an elephant. He groaned and the girl looked back at him as if she had forgotten he was there. She scampered over and ripped his shirt so she could tie a bandage around his bleeding leg. She worked with careful, measured determination. By the time she had finished tying the wound shut, Zaw¡¯s eyes had already closed. Seng Nu looked at the unconscious body and watched the boy¡¯s bare chest rising and falling with ragged uneven breaths. She caught herself staring too long and blushed, though the forest was the only witness. Then she scolded herself for wasting time. The boy was not safe yet and needed to be taken to the camp. As she lifted the body she spoke to him, confident that he would not reply. ¡°He got you in the leg pretty bad, so I¡¯m going to take you back to the camp now.¡± They were the first words she had spoken to another human for six years. 3. Seng Nus story Seng Nu had arrived in the forest ten years ago, when she was around seven, maybe eight, years old. A late age for first memories. Her first memory was of how dark the forest was. Her second was the ogre. The ogre had sunken eyes as dim as candles in fog and smiled as if smiling was something it had only heard about in stories but never actually seen another person do to them. It¡¯s mouth did not have teeth in number or sharpness to eat her whole, but the rows of thick yellow nubs could probably give her a good chew. Her third memory was not an image but a feeling: the rushing sense of calm on realising that it wasn¡¯t an ogre at all, but a sweet old lady who walked with a hunch and whose shawl drew long deceptive shadows across her face. ¡°Eat¡± said the woman, placing a bowl of pumpkin leaf soup on the table in front of her. And Seng Nu ate, her legs swinging off the chair, high above the floor. She did not know where she came from or how ended up in the forest by Nor Nors¡¯s lonesome house. She could speak and use a spoon, so she probably wasn¡¯t raised by wolves or tigers. It must have been in a place where the trees didn¡¯t grow so closely together to block out the sun. She must have known what an ogre was too and always felt ashamed of her first reaction to Nor Nor. An ogre was a horrible thing, something big, hot and nasty. Nor Nor was small, warm, and lovely. By the time Nor Nor passed away, Seng Nu was old enough to look after herself. In the afternoons, she roamed the jungle herself, finding new flowers that not even Nor Nor had seen before and climbing up the inside of waterfalls and through caves untrodden for ten thousand years or more. She could lift herself up into a tree with her arms alone. And though she could not run as fast as the forest deer or keep up with the falcons flying overhead, she could outrun the wild boars and chase sparrows until they were exhausted. Nor Nor had been known to the villagers as the lady in the forest and on occasion she had taken Seng Nu to market with her, but after Nor Nor left, Seng Nu never went again in daylight. She lingered on the outskirts of the camp and the village, only daring to enter when the forest was not giving up its bounty and her stomach was growling. Even then, her visits were quick and cautious. She would dart in when everyone was sleeping to steal a bowl of cooked rice or leftover salads and curries. The villagers attributed the soft padding footsteps that could be heard around midnight to the orphan girl they knew still lived in the forest. Seng Nu was always too far away to hear what they said. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. That was why saving the boy was so unusual and why as she approached the gate of the camp, Seng Nu began to feel the frosty grip of anxiety creep up her shoulders. Reaching the main gate she let the boy¡¯s body gently to the ground. There was a metal bell set into a tree with a wooden mallet resting in a pocket strap that had been tied around the trunk. She hit the bell three times and then ran behind a tree to hide. Her curiosity had got the better of her. She looked at the boy. Or was it a man? He must have been around the same age as her. Was she a woman then? She admired his mop of dark hair cut short around the head, the thin nose and those lips too¡­She wondered what he sounded like. The first buds of a new feeling appeared as tiny knots in her stomach as she began to imagine a conversation with the boy. She had explored most of the forest, but talking to the boy would open up a new world. The gate stirred and another man came out. For a frustratingly long period of time, he gazed up and outwards into the forest, not seeing the body. The man¡¯s mouth gaped open in confusion, as though he was expecting a bird to fly down and ring the bell again. Eventually he noticed the boy lying on the road in front of him. ¡°Zaw!¡± what happened, the man crouching down to shake the unconscious body. He ran back to the camp to get help. Four men came this time, carrying a stretcher made from bamboo and banana leafs. They loaded Zaw onto it, but as he did, the bandage around his leg caught on a nub of wood and began to loosen. None of the men seemed to notice. They were not uncaring men, the concern for Zaw was evident on their faces. Yet they carried the stretcher as though they were rushing a log of timber to the camp. Seng Nu wanted nothing more than to run back to her cottage in the forest. But the same voice that had told her to carry this boy, Zaw, back to the camp was now telling her that if she left now, he would die at the hands of these incompetents. She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the tree. And if she got to see the beautiful boy up close again? Well, that would be a good thing too. 4. Jin Bus arrival Jin Bu climbed down from the tree and wiped her scratched and bloody palms against her dress. There was a crossing point nearby. South led back to Blackstone village while North and across the stream went to the Buttersweet Camp. She had never been there before even though it was close to the village. ¡°Not a place for young women¡± her mother had said when she had once asked to go see the elephants. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare go anywhere near there,¡± her father had growled, fortifying her mother¡¯s warning with an even stricter order. She heard his voice in her head, telling her to go straight home now. But he was muted by an image of Zaw, running into the trees. He had saved her life. She had to know if he was ok. What was she supposed to do, go home and make soup? She took the northern path and dipped her hands into the stream as she crossed it, letting the cool water give comfort to her scraped hands. She had never been this deep into the forest. There was a path ahead, more defined and seemingly well-trodden, then the ones she was used to. She stepped gingerly onto it and then immediately threw herself into the bracken by the side of the path as she heard a wail coming from behind. ¡°HROOONN!¡± The elephant was back! She crouched under an arch of thick bramble by the side of the road and curled herself in a ball trying to keep silent, but hearing her heart pounding in her chest. ¡°WATCH OUT!¡± said the elephant as it came past her. Jin Bu looked up and saw that the voice had actually come from a man who was sat on a different elephant¡¯s back. His face was smooth like polished copper, but his hair was dashed with streaks of grey. Jin Bu quickly realised that it wasn¡¯t the same elephant. This one was much larger, but even if she hadn¡¯t seen the difference in size, it was clear that this one had a much calmer attitude than the mad beast who had chased her up a tree. It was ambling down the path at a leisurely pace, and it had a calm, almost sleepy expression. ¡°Watch out little mouse!¡± the man said as the elephant paused beside the bramble. ¡°I won¡¯t try to step on you myself but Chyarmanine here just wants to get home and rest and she won¡¯t stop now for anyone but me,¡± he said, gently patting Chyarmanine¡¯s head. The elephant was inspecting the roadside bush with her trunk and with a practised dexterity snatched a raspberry bunch for herself. "Well, for me or for roadside snacks" the man chuckled. Jin Bu saw that he was sitting on a small leather saddle strapped to the elephant¡¯s back and there were metal chains running to the back where they looped around a huge log of teak wood. With a quiet grunt, the elephant started to move again and as she dragged the log, even at a slow pace, dust clouds were sent up from the path. Jin Bu decided that she did not want to go back through the dust cloud, so she walked alongside, doing her best to keep up. ¡°What¡¯s a girl like you doing out here then? Are you off to the camp? ¡± he asked but his smile dropped as he saw her more clearly. More than the rips in her clothing or the cuts on her arms it was the stumbling, lost expression on her face which told him something was not right. ¡°Looks like you need to rest your feet. Come on, I¡¯ll take you to the camp.¡± He unrolled a bundle of sticks by his stirrups which sent a thin wooden ladder down the elephant¡¯s side. As she climbed up, he offered his hand and felt the cuts in her palms. ¡°What happened girl?¡± Jin Bu hid her eyes. ¡°I was in the forest collecting leaves¡± ¡°Collecting leaves? Whatever for?¡± ¡°The wild ones taste better.¡± ¡°Well that¡¯s true enough, but it looks like you got into a fight with more than a prickly vine.¡± ¡°An elephant chased me...I climbed a tree to escape and...¡± she held her tongue for a moment ¡°...Zaw chased it away. I came here to see if he¡¯s all right.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a friend of Zaw¡¯s are you? I¡¯ve been out in the forest this morning so I don¡¯t know what¡¯s been going on, but I suppose they were going to kheddar young Pinkwetha this morning, maybe that was the young bull that chased you. He could have broke loose. It doesn¡¯t happen often, but I¡¯d climb a tree too if I was anywhere near an embarrassed and angry elephant. I told them they were taking too long. You see Pinkwetha was a wild elephant first, he wasn¡¯t raised in the camp. You always take a risk trying to train wild elephants.¡± But Zaw is a good young man and strong too. He isn¡¯t the fastest, for sure, but he has a good mind on him. He will have taken that elephant on a little game of chase around the trees I¡¯m sure.¡± Jin Bu felt herself nodding although she wasn¡¯t sure if she believed it, or it was just an involuntary response to the swaying and bumping of Chyarmanine¡¯s walk. Maybe she was worrying too much about Zaw. They might turn into the camp and find him back at work already. Then she would look like a fool. Everytime the elephant had dragged the log its own distance, she would pause for a quick break, sometimes unrolling her long trunk to inspect leaves and branches by the side of the road, occasionally pulling one off to chew as she started off again. ¡°I¡¯m Zami Kon of Blackstone¡± said the man, introducing himself during one of these stops. ¡°I¡¯m Hkanna Jin Bu of Blackstone too¡± said Jin Bu, who was gripping the saddle of the elephant almost as tight as she had grabbed the tree earlier. ¡°I thought I recognised you¡± said Kon. ¡°You¡¯re Gunthaw¡¯s child.¡± His voice cooled ever so slightly. Hkanna Gunthaw was not just the patriarch of the Hkanna clan, but headman of the village and a renowned warrior in the valley. He had made his name leading the Army of the Valley on three successful wars against the Mountain Clans and while he was too old now to command men into battle, as head man of Blackstone village he still carried the responsibility for mustering should the Army of the Valley call. After the wars, he had claimed dominion over the forest, at least the parts that encompassed the elephant camp. He collected a yearly sum from the sale of the timber, though he rarely visited, delegating the management to his brother-in-law. His four children would have denied that having a headman for a father had made them spoiled; they had grown up working in the family farm just as other children in the village did. Yet while the family farm was no bigger than others in the village, the income from the elephant camp meant the Hkannas could put more food into the family pot. Low harvest years in the valley bred lean people, but the Hkanna children had never wanted and had grown tall and firm like flowers in well-tended pots of rich earth. On feast days, when the whole village would congregate in open space and the Hkanna clan sat at the centre table to be served first, with Gunthaw taking the first cuts of thigh meat as was the headman¡¯s right. Sometimes he would peel strips off the meat and give it to his children, who sometimes couldn¡¯t help but feel that they were also receiving portions of the reverence the rest of the village gave him. Nevertheless, the youngest of them, Jin Bu was invariably the last to get any cut-offs if she got any at all, which was probably why she had grown up more careless of the clan traditions and ceremony which said that her and Zaw could not be together. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Jin Bu wondered if Kon would tell her father about her and Zaw. She tried to change the subject. ¡°Where are you taking this timber Brother? I thought that the camp sent the trees down the river but we seem to be going away from it¡± ¡°There must be something in the forest water¡± Kon laughed. Jin Bu looked confused ¡°Why do you say that?¡± ¡°Well it is what I drink of course, and it must have been a rare tonic to make a young girl like yourself call me ¡®brother¡¯¡± He reached up and touched his face and chuckled. ¡°I suppose the shade in the forest has stopped my skin from cracking too early, but I must be twenty years older than you at the least.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry Uncle.¡± she said, feeling her face tighten. Young and unmarried girls like her were unused to talking to older men. The only ones she knew were her father and the market stall holders at the Moon Market, with whom she asked little more of than the price of grain. She had not truly believed Kon to be close to her age. It had been his friendliness of nature that had made her slip into the familiar ¡®brother¡¯. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Daughter, it was an extra clove of garlic in the soup of today! Now as for your question, you are quite right that we normally take the logs to the river, but we¡¯ve got a special order from the camp master, he wants to make his own lodgings bigger you see.¡± The road opened up and the line of endless trees suddenly gave way to a huge oval-shaped clearing, almost the size of a small village. ¡°Welcome to Buttersweet¡± said Kon. As they went through the entrance way, Jin Bu saw rows of wooden huts built with thin frames of birch and elm wood looping out around both sides of the perimeter, a dozen or so on each edge. Each one had a front porch, and under the awnings some men could be seen sleeping in hammocks strung up between the pillars. Others were huddled in groups around short tables, cheering or groaning at the position of the bones or discs they were rolling and shuffling across tables. They stared at Jin Bu gaping at her silently or nudging their companions. There was no hostility in their faces, just curiosity, but Jin Bu looked away anyway. At the apex of the clearing, furthest from the entrance, she saw a hut larger than all the others, one that had two floors on top of each other and even steps leading up to the door. She guessed this was the house of her uncle, the Master¡¯s house. Just to the right of the entrance was a pocket of land divided into long wooden stables. They needed no roof as they were built under a huge oak tree, whose hundred year old branches formed a canopy so large it would allow for ten adult elephants to nap in the shade or rain. Kon called out ¡°Halt!¡± and Chyarmanine stopped. Kon stepped down and lifted Jin Bu after him. Chyarmanine tooted a greeting to Jhabow who was munching on a stalk of banana plant and then ambled over and offered her a bite. Kon gave friendly pats and strokes to both elephants. ¡°Are you happy to see her, Jhabow?¡± said Kon to the male elephant. ¡°Chyarmanine¡¯s been working hard for me today, but I¡¯ll let you two have some alone time for now. We¡¯ll pick up the log later.¡± He unhooked the chains and the saddle from Chyarmanine¡¯s back and stowed them up on a hook by the stables. He hadn¡¯t forgotten Jin Bu, or the lost look in her eyes. ¡°Come on¡± he said to her. ¡°let¡¯s go to the rest station and see if your Zaw is there.¡± A man outside the station smirked as Kon and Jin Bu approached and grinned at Jin Bu with eyes like carving knives. ¡°What¡¯s this Kon? You¡¯ve been hunting something tasty for dinner have you?¡± ¡°This is Hkanna Jin Bu of the Blackstone Hkanna¡± said Kon. ¡°Gunthaw¡¯s daughter¡± he added, making his point even clearer. The man quickly set his eyes on the distance. ¡°She is looking for Zaw, he saved her from a bull on a rampage, have you news of this Lam?¡± Lam pointed through the door ¡°He¡¯s...¡± but Jin Bu had already dashed past him. Zaw was laid out on a bed, his eyes closed. Jin Bu cried his name as she ran to kneel beside him, entwining her hands in his. But he made no motion. ¡°What happened, is he..?¡± Jin Bu cried. ¡°He¡¯s not dead¡± said a girl who had been standing next to the bed. ¡°He has been badly injured, but he may live yet.¡± The girl then shuffled away to a corner of the room leaving Jin Bu and Zaw together. Jin Bu broke her gaze on Zaw for a moment to look at her with just the smallest of suspicions. Zaw had never told her there was a girl who lived in the camp, especially not one with clay red hair and a battered, tattered tunic that looked like it was more patchwork than whatever the original material was. But she did not think on it for long. It was Zaw she was here for. She clutched his hand tight and then ran her palm over the callouses on his fingers. Zaw and Jin Bu had known each other since they were children, which wasn¡¯t unusual in a town of less than a hundred hearths. As they were both the youngest in their family, they had found each other worthy playmates when they wanted to escape the seniority of their siblings. On market days, while their mother¡¯s haggled with the travelling merchants and farmers, they could be seen but mostly heard running hand in hand through the market, dodging piles of fruit and vegetables while they sang songs with familiar melodies and loud nonsensical words that collapsed in on themselves as they burst into laughter. They would tie strings around the necks of the semi-wild village cats and walk them down the main road as if they were tame tigers. They ran into rice fields and climbed on the backs of unimpressed oxen, unsuccessfully trying to will them forward. As they became older, they curved away from each other only to curve back a few years later, this time in secret. In the market where Zaw¡¯s family had a stall, Jin Bu would plunge a hand into a sack of grain, as though to feel it for quality, and invite Zaw to do the same. Then they would look out on the market, their eyes focused on nothing in particular, perhaps talking about the weather, while hidden from view, their hands touched and made love. They would meet at half moonlights under the awnings of the grain store or in the forest where none but the birds could see them, and the only sound was the muffled giggling of mischievous wood spirits. Jin Bu said nothing as she sat by Zaw¡¯s bed. A garland of tattered jasmine was wrapped around his wrist and Jin Bu lifted his hand up to take in its scent, which was still sweet. She let the flowers fall between their hands and squeezed them tight until sundown. Across the room, Seng Nu washed the bandages. Every now and again she would remind herself that this was real. She was in a room that wasn¡¯t her own, that she was around other people. She had spent years avoiding contact, running from voices in the distance, staying away from the men and their camp. Perhaps once a year, she might creep in under the cloak of a dead moon to steal scraps of cloth and metal, but for the most part she kept far away. So why was she here now? The men were well-meaning, but she had to snatch a dirty rag away from one who was applying it to the wound in Zaw¡¯s leg. She had tended the boy¡¯s wounds with lemon leaf and had asked for honey to prevent blackgrowth. Despite their poor therapeutic skills, the men of the camp were mostly like her. They lived in the forest for months, some even years at a time, and muttered their feelings as if they were ashamed of them. For her to be this bold of all a sudden was not a choice, nor was it from some long hidden well of courage. It was simply action that came from knowledge. The knowledge that only she could save Zaw at this moment. Outside of Nor Nor¡¯s motherly affection, she had never known love, not even at a distance. But she instinctively knew that the other girl loved Zaw from the way she was looking at him and holding his hand. She wondered what it would be like to hold those hands too. 5. Shattered It was the way the door of the rest station swung wildly open and crashed into the wall as if a stormwind had blown in that told Jin Bu who had arrived at the camp. She let go of Zaw¡¯s hand and stood up to face her father. ¡°Hkanna Jin Bu, what are you doing here?¡± he rumbled, and then looked suspiciously at Zaw as though his unconscious state was just a feint. He walked into the rest station with another man, short and plump, waddling behind him who Jin Bu recognised as Dow Som, the Master of the Camp and Jin Bu¡¯s uncle on her mothers side. Dow Som rarely left the camp these days but Jin Bu had vague memories of being a toddler on feast days, his twinkling eyes and how she would sit on his knee and listen to his booming thunderous laugh as she pulled his moustache and poked his belly. His body still resembled a thick buttersquash, thick around the waist, and his moustache bristled like a thick caterpillar. Yet his eyes no longer shone as they once had, but were sunk and worried-looking. There was a weariness to his eyes that suggested he had not laughed in a long time. Although he was Master of the camp it was her father Gunthaw who held the highest authority here and he stood in front of his brother in law to emphasise this. He was older too, but still resembled a warrior. His chest and shoulders were the width of a young oak and while his face had lines of age, they only seemed to confirm his status as the battle hardened Head Man of Blackstone. It was only his eyes, agitated and angry, that contradicted his dignity. Jin Bu chose to put all her bravery into her voice rather than her eyes. She looked down but spoke firmly. ¡°He saved my life, father.¡± ¡°And what were you doing here in the first place? I have told you since you were a child this camp is no place for a women, especially an unmarried one.¡± he growled. Jin Bu thought that it was a small blessing that her father did not appear to know of her and Zaw¡¯s relationship. Seng Nu appeared in the doorway behind them carrying a basin of hot water. ¡°What exactly is going on here Dow Som?¡± thundered Gunthaw to his Brother in law. ¡°I told you no women at the camp, and now not only is my youngest daughter here, but another young woman, who I¡¯m sure from the looks of her is unmarried, is strolling through the camp like a worm wiggling on the end of the fishing rod. Is this a rest station or are the scarlet-lit houses of the City expanding their business to the jungle?¡± Seng Nu had not expected anything in return for her help. It had taken all her strength to walk into the camp today and offer it. She had not expected a trade in return and did not want it. But she had not expected to be insulted for being here. Dow Som had taken out a handfan and was wafting it in front of his now sweating face. He looked aside at Seng Nu and then back to Gunthaw ¡°Brother, she is a...¡± With a crash, the basin dropped to the floor spilling hot water across the floor. It wasn''t clear if Seng Nu had dropped it or thrown it down. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Gunthaw. Anger was new to her ¡°She is one who can speak for herself.¡± she said in a voice barbed with thorns. ¡°and I don¡¯t know what a scarlet-lit house is, but from the way your voice dipped when you said it I can only guess it is a place where respect for women is lacking. But I do know what a worm is and I know they are blind, so the closest thing to a worm in this room is the man who is ignorant to everything.¡± For a brief moment, the only thing that could be heard in the room was Dow Som¡¯s handfan, which he was wafting anxiously over his sweating face. Jin Bu, still by the bed, felt the skin on her face tighten. Who was this camp maid that was speaking to her father like this? Gunthaw¡¯s eyes were aflame. He eyed Seng Nu like a panther stalking a pigeon. But this pigeon was not flying but standing defiantly, meeting his eyes with her own. ¡°Who is your father, girl? you shame him and your clan with the way you speak to me,¡± he said through gritted teeth. He spoke in a slow growl and each word simmered with aggression and the muscles on his neck bulged like tightly wound rope around a restrained and struggling beast. ¡°Or maybe your father is the one to blame here,¡± he said in a low growl. Seng Nu let it roll over her like she would a breeze. She did not know her father and had no clan to be loyal to. The energy of anger was leaving, to be replaced only by the duller bruise of disappointment. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°She has no family¡± said Dow Som. ¡°She is a forest orphan.¡± ¡°If she was raised by the forest she would speak in the language of creeper trees and jungle pigs, but she has made herself understood well enough here.¡± Said Gunthaw, now speaking directly to Dow Som as if Seng Nu wasn¡¯t there. ¡°Grandma Nor Nor brought her up.¡± ¡°Not very well it seems.¡± ¡°The old lady left us five, maybe six years ago,¡± said Dow Som. ¡°That explains her lack of manners. She is half wild like a tame goat that escapes to the mountains.¡± ¡°Six years¡± said Seng Nu. ¡° And don¡¯t talk about Nor Nor again, her name in your mouth is an unnatural thing. Like a snake that pretends to smile.¡± "Get out of my camp!¡± Gunthaw was blowing air out his nostrils like a bullock. He shouted so loud that the sparrow and crowd that had been perched on the roof of the building took off into the air with a startle, their wings flapping almost as furiously as Dow Som¡¯s handfan. Jin Bu, who had been standing halfway between the bed and her father, then spoke. ¡°But father she is healing Zaw.¡± ¡°And why does that concern you?¡± thundered back Gunthaw. Jin Bu heard the suspicion in his voice. ¡°I told you father. He saved my life. There was an elephant. He distracted it from me but it got him as he ran.¡± She spoke in a slow and measured tone, as if Zaw was just another man of the camp and not her secret lover from an unaligned clan. Gunthaw looked at Dow Som who nodded to confirm. ¡°Where is the camp healer?¡± barked Gunthaw. ¡°Alian left a month ago, Brother. He has gone back to his village to look after his mother she is sick.¡± ¡°Then get a new healer. A man.¡± He looked at Seng Nu. ¡°You. Out of here.¡± ¡°This man will die tonight if I do not rebandage his wounds". Said Seng Nu. Jin Bu¡¯s felt as though her legs had been hollowed out and she almost stumbled over at the mention of death. She looked to her Father with pleading eyes. ¡°Father! please let her stay. Zaw...¡± Gunthaw reached out and caught the desperation in her voice. He had a vague recollection of this boy being his daughter¡¯s playmate when they were young. ¡°Thats the second time you have said his name. Why do you care so much about him, daughter?¡± Maybe it was because she had just heard Seng Nu talk to her father in a way that no man, let alone a woman, had talked to him before, that Jin Bu herself felt inspired to follow the path of bravery. ¡°I love him. We will be married.¡± Her breath had become quick and shallow but her eyes now held her father¡¯s gaze in innocent defiance. For what seems like forever, the now unravelled secret hung silently in the air, waiting for the winds to blow it one way or another. ¡°What is this boy¡¯s clan?¡± said Gunthaw, but he already knew the answer. He had recognised Zaw as the boy his youngest daughter used to run around with when she was just a child. In the Valley, marriage was a tightly woven basket of relationships between each of the twenty clans with each pairing only allowing their sons or daughter to marry in one direction. Jin Bu was from the Hkanna Clan and Zaw was a Tairu. Tairu daughters could marry Hkanna sons, but the reverse went against the customary law, and made Jin Bu and Zaw¡¯s relationship ¡®unwoven¡¯. While the custom served to bind the clans of the Valley, from the foot of the mountains to the outskirts of the City, in reality, exceptions were often made. There might be too many or not enough women or men in one family and not enough matching pairs to marry them too, and parents would rather see their children married irregularly than alone. Other times, ¡®unwoven¡¯ lovers might simply elope together. While this was frowned upon, in most cases the couple would return after a few months, by which time any anger from the families had long since been overruled by the anxiety to see their sons and daughters again. Gunthaw was not superstitious, he did not particularly care for the basket, but tradition made a fine accomplice. He had already began floating the idea to a PawTun family of Jin Bu marrying one of their lads. The Pawtuns controlled lands between the village and the far-off city and would often levy taxes on the timber that came floating down the river. With a marriage to the clan, there was hope that he could persuade the PawTuns to rescind the tax. Jin Bu¡¯s eyes had already welled with tears but she kept them looking forward in what was a final futile attempt at defiance. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what his clan is!¡± But she knew from her father¡¯s eyes that he would not be changing his mind. ¡°The girl can stay here to look after the boy tonight. But tomorrow she must leave. You are coming back with me right now.¡± Said Gunthaw to his daughter. And that was that. Jin Bu left with her father, deciding that for now she would have better luck persuading him to change his mind at home, with her mother perhaps a potential ally. In a last gesture of defiance, she kissed his forehead before they left. "I will return" she whispered. And at that time she truly believed she would. 6. Waking Up Zaw woke up a few days later with the exhaustion that can only come from sleeping so long. Slowly he remembered what had happened. Jin Bu! She had climbed a tree to escape Pinkwetha. Was she safe? He sat up in bed and his hand brushed against some jasmine flowers that had been left by his pillow. They were tattered yellow and about ready to rot, except one that had been stained ruby red in blood. Zaw held it up to the light. He remembered that Jin Bu had gripped the branches so tightly they had cut her palms. ¡°You¡¯re awake at last young man!¡± Kon said. He came through the door beaming at him like a ray of morning sun made human. ¡°You must be hungry, I¡¯ll get you some rice soup. If that¡¯s ok with the healer¡± he said, putting a light emphasis on the last word as he looked towards the far corner of the room. Zaw noticed there was someone else in the room. A girl. but it wasn¡¯t Jin Bu. She was knelt down by the corner grate scrubbing white cloth bandages. ¡°Where is Jin Bu?¡± he said, and moved as if to leave the bed, but collapsed immediately as a thick bolt of pain shot through his leg. ¡°She¡¯s safe and unharmed, Zaw. Back at the village now.¡± Kon hesitated. He knew sooner or later someone would have to tell Zaw what had happened with Jin Bu and her father. It was too early now though and he moved to change the subject. ¡°How¡¯s the soup coming?¡± he said, turning to the girl in the corner, who looked up and made an awkward smile at Kon. ¡°Add an extra clove of garlic and some strips of sweetbark, they¡¯ll help him get his energy back quicker.¡± ¡°Sounds delicious, I might make one for myself too!¡± said Kon. ¡°Have you met Seng Nu, Zaw? She acts all quiet but don¡¯t get on her bad side or she¡¯ll chew you up like she did to the Big Man a few nights ago¡±. And then he quickly left, realising that he just brought up the subject he had tried to steer away from. Seng Nu came to Zaw¡¯s side and placed her hand on his forehead. She was only supposed to stay for one night but this was her third morning waking up in the camp. Not wanting to leave Zaw alone, or worse, in the hands of those who didn''t know what they were doing, she took short naps throughout the day and night, usually curled up on a pile of blankets in the corner of the room. ¡°Big Man?¡± asked Zaw, pushing himself up to a sitting position. ¡°The fever has gone, that¡¯s good.¡± ¡°I remember you now¡± said Zaw, ¡°you were there in the forest. I thought you were a dream¡±. He was staring at Seng Nu now. She looked away. She had been the centre of attention in the camp recently and was used to seeing the men peering at her through the windows of the rest station, but there was something in Zaw¡¯s eyes that captured her own too easily, perhaps because she had been waiting so long to see them. For the last few days she had tended him and had become familiar with his body. She had massaged his hands and fingers as he lay recovering and could see he had not worked at the camp long, they were still mostly smooth and unworn, except for the fresh calluses on the tips of his fingers and cup of his thumb, roughly ridged like bug tunnels on spring oak leaves. His hair curled as it reached his shoulders. She had combed it as he slept, even though this was a task quite clearly beyond what was expected of a healer. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. It was his eyes that she had waited so long to see. They were dark and jewelled and she had the sensation of falling each time she made eye contact. ¡°My dreams and memories have mixed together. I dreamed you knocked a tree clean over onto Pinkwetha with just a kick of your legs¡± ¡°Oh you dreamed that did you?¡± Seng Nu said, allowing herself the smallest of smiles. ¡°Yes you were lucky you weren¡¯t hurt by the falling tree too¡± Said Zaw. Seng Nu laughed and Zaw couldn¡¯t understand why. ¡°Did I remember wrong?¡± ¡°A little.¡± "Where is Jin Bu?" ///////// A few days later Zaw collapsed by the edges of the forest. He had dragged himself out of the bed in the middle of the night and hobbled through the trees using a dead branch as a crutch. He had been trying to reach Jin Bu, knew that if he could just see her one more time, they would escape together. The effort had been immense, and had the pain, but his fire inside had been thinking only of her and their future¡¯s dream. But his body could not support his passions that night. His legs had given out, his mind raged at his bodym and then blackness. ¡°It is for the best if your forget her¡± He was lying in his bed again, rebandaged and embarrassed. That his and Jin Bu¡¯s beautiful secret had become common knowledge was an extra sting that he could scarcely bear. Now he had only proven that he was not worthy of her, that he could not even rescue her. He turned away from the speaker. ¡°I know it must be hard, Zaw.¡± Dow Som said in a tone much lighter than the camp manager usually used to speak to the young mahouts. ¡°But she isn¡¯t coming back. She is off to the city now to be married to some merchant princeling¡±. It wasn¡¯t exactly the truth, but Dow Som knew that it sounded more distant and intimidating than a trader¡¯s son from the river run. ¡°It¡¯s best you get her out of your head now. Lying here moping about it won¡¯t change anything.¡± Zaw began to tense and Dow Som shifted uneasily, dropping to an even softer tone. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to be heartbroken too¡±. He had been told to speak to Zaw by Gunthaw. ¡°To close the door on any future romantic escapes.¡± As Dow Som began to tell a story of a teenage affair he had with a baker''s daughter, Zaw kept his eyes open just enough to pretend he was listening, but his mind could only think of Jin Bu. Their way to their future had always had many paths. If one was blocked, then there was another and another. But now all those paths were gone and so, it appeared, was that future. 7. An Elephants eye view Chyarmanine walked through the forest on her way to find a late afternoon meal, her legs buzzing with the worn out energy that could only come from a full day dragging logs from the depths of the forest to the river bank. She thought about the humans and their complications. She had been watching their comings and goings with interest, ever since she had carried the first young lady into the camp. Pretending to be lost, she would casually wander from hut to hut and linger by the windows and doorways hoping to pick up a morsel of fresh information. She couldn¡¯t understand exactly what they said, but elephants had a great skill for reading body language. She had known the apprentice oozie Zaw for a year. There were always a few among any group of novices who, sitting on an elephant for the first time, found that their pretensions had become as elevated as their backsides. They would brandish the whip, treating the elephant as just another tool for timber. Not Zaw. From the moment he arrived at the camp, he had made a point to learn all of the elephant names and had never acted as though he was above them, no matter how high he was sitting. Of course he did not speak their language, but as he walked alongside the elephants on their way into the forest to collect teakwood, he would talk to each one in tones that were upbeat on the way there and soothing on the way back. When he was assigned to cleaning, he always made sure to bring fresh chomaleaves from the forest, because he knew that the elephants loved the bubbling sensation when they were lathered onto their backs. She never would have guessed that the polite young man would be at the centre of a love story with so many threads. Zaw and Jin Bu were lovers, that was clear enough. The big man, who stomped around and gave orders to the fat man, had taken her away. If Zaw and Jin Bu loved each other then why would her father get in the way of that happiness? It made little sense to an elephant. Chyarmanine found the patch of bamboo she was looking for and poked her trunk in to pull off a fresh stick. She would need to eat until sundown now, pulling, breaking and chewing as much bamboo, grass, vines and creepers as she could find in order to regain her energy for tomorrow. As she chewed and crunched she remembered her own courtship with Jhabow. It must have been twenty years ago that she met him. Before they could even kiss their trunks together he had been taken by the men to another camp faraway. She had waited over six seasons for him to return. And how he had returned! The memory of that night was still so clear to her. How he came to her under the full moon¡¯s light. Would it be the same for Zaw and Jin Bu? Zaw had been wearing a dark cloud. Was it longing or mourning? It seemed as though Jin Bu had gone away for good and Zaw could or would not follow her. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. There was another girl, Seng Nu. She lived in the forest, but came to the camp in the day, even though this seemed to infuriate the camp Master, who would order her to leave as soon as she arrived. Seng Nu had a bodyguard now. Ever since the day he raged through the forest and then been caught under the tree, Pinkwetha had been loyal to Seng Nu and Seng Nu alone. To the astonishment of men and elephants alike, she was often seen riding him through the camp and along the forest trails. The young bull elephant¡¯s demeanour was certainly calmer than before, but he would snort and bellow angrily if anyone so much as a hand on Seng Nu, which meant that no matter how much Dow Som yelled and shouted, she would not leave and he could not make her. Chyarmanine would disobey sometimes. Especially during the high sun of the hot season when the wood seemed to grow heavier and a few of the younger oozies had tried to push their luck by adding another chain to the load. She would simply sit down and refuse to get up, until they took the chain off. But she had never taken things as far as Pinkwetha, who had gone rogue and simply walked and ate where he pleased. She wasn¡¯t exactly sure what Pinkwetha wanted apart from the ability to raid the fruit trees all day. But she knew why Seng Nu wanted to be at the camp, and wondered if it was as obvious to Zaw. After breakfast time was over and the oozies and the elephants were out working in the forest, Seng Nu would stay around the cook station, watching Zaw clean the pots and pans. Some humans were loud, others were quiet. Seng Nu seemed to be a mix of both. When she arrived at the camp in the mornings, sometimes with a basket of forest blue yams or northspice root, she had the caution of a sparrow pecking at spilt grains of rice next to a busy kitchen, one that would flutter away if someone so much as looked at them. Yet this was also the very same girl who had shouted at the master, something that none of the men, who were as loud as anything when they were three cups into the sugarwine, would ever dare to do! Other times however, she seemed to have more confidence and would chatted to Zaw while he cleaned and began preparing the food for later. Seng Nu was a forest flower that bloomed brightly just once a year, but cloaked itself at all other times. Zaw was not a rude man and he always thanked Seng Nu but even though he would answer her questions he did so without any of the enthusiasm that she tried to bring. What Seng Nu saw in him was hard to tell, because there was no charm to Zaw anymore, nor smile on his face. Chyarmanine wondered if Zaw would ever get over Jin Bu. Would she have been able to get over Jhabow if he had never came back? She reached out her trunk to grab another stick of bamboo. She did not know why but they always tasted better at night. She heard footsteps behind her and knew from the rhythm of the walk exactly who it was. Jhabow approached, a low moan stirring in her ear. He nuzzled his rough head into her side and then moved around to face. Together, they curled their trunks around each other in a secret midnight kiss. 8.The New Future Zaw lay in bed listening to the monsoon rains drumming on the roof above him. It was the only sound on earth that was both deafening and calming. Yet before he could be lulled to sleep, the downpour ended and the only sound left behind was the irregular drip and splish of water dripping from the trees and awnings. Zaw¡¯s mind wandered inside itself, to the place where he remembered Jin Bu, a once happy place now tainted with bitterness and rage. The future was no longer with him. She had left. Not just him, but the valley too. He had heard news from Blackstone that she was no longer in her father¡¯s house. Whether she had left herself or been sent away was unclear, but he was told that she was never coming back. Something about a merchant¡¯s son. He had made himself numb to the details, knowing she had left was punishment enough, to think of her with another man would be something worse than unbearable. Memories are the past and dreams are the future and Zaw had a memory of a dream. Their dream. He would have worked at the camp for a few more years to save for the bridewealth. The clan basket wouldn¡¯t matter, he would change his name if he had to or they would run away together if needed. They would build a house together by the edge of the forest and grow lemons and bananas and keep chickens too for breakfast eggs. He would bring Jin Bu wild jasmine flowers from the forest each morning and she would lace them into her hair. They would take walks by the river meeting the elephants on the way and he would impress her by riding them without a saddle. These past futures were now like the bitterest of enemies as they taunted him with their own impossibility. Seng Nu had told him something. Said she could make him forget. Forget the house with the lemons and the bananas, forget the chickens. Forget all the things that made his heart ache uncontrollably. She said she could make him forget Jin Bu. She had helped him remember what had happened that day in the forest. The tree had not fallen, she had kicked it over. Just her. She had said she could change minds as well as move things. It was possible, she said. Was that what he really wanted? The future had gone but there was still a sweet past in his memories. Zaw and Jin Bu had already walked together down those paths and had made sweet memories, short though they were. But like the future destroyed, the memories too could not be separated from the pain of unlived dreams. It was a pain that has crossed over to the body, one that made his skin tighten so hard he suffocated, one that made him tremble and shake so that his eyes could not focus. And the more those memories and dreams attacked his own body, the more they made it weak enough to fail, the more desperate he was to remove them. Zaw rose from his bed and stepped out of the cabin and took a deep breath of cool air. The sky in the east was pierced with dark greys and blues like an iris. He had not slept this whole night, but he was wide awake and untired. A candle was burning in the cook station across the camp. He walked across the open clearing, taking his time to step around the puddles. Seng Nu was sitting there, peeling river roots and humming to herself. She saw him by the reflection of candle light in his wet eyes. ¡°We must go to my house,¡± she said. She stood up and the candle next to her went out, though she had not touched it and the air was still. She walked ahead, leading him out of the camp and into the forest as the rains started again, washing away the sweat of the night. They came to a place where the sinews of the river had split from the main artery and webbed out to encircle a small parcel of land, slightly raised above the marsh. The water was not deep and you could step over the channels, but even in the hot season, when the waters dried up, the land was still fairly muddy. Seng Nu had already laid stepping stones and she strode from one to the next with an unthinking confidence. Zaw took each one with more caution. He walked with a cane these days and he needed it for both support and balance as he threaded his way slowly to the cottage in the firm centre. Seng Nu admired the way he had adapted to the cane. He had found dignity in it. She admired his eyes too. Soaked with sorrow, she still found them beautiful still, the hint of the old vitality still there. He just needed someone to cleanse him. To was the dirt away from the jewel. You can''t wait, can you? She said to herself. With Jin Bu forgotten, your path towards Zaw is easier. Seng Nu blushed at the thought of what the path towards Zaw implied. She had never been with a man in¡­that way. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. She was angry at herself for thinking this way. She was helping Zaw, not hindering anyone else. And anyway, everyone at camp sais it would be for the best if Zaw forgot about Jin Bu. He was barely eating. Yes but would the camp agree with what you are about to do? What do I care what they think? They would not understand. Maybe they would realise you are stealing him for yourself It was his decision. You baited the hook. Zaw finally caught up with her and they walked together towards the house that stood in the middle of the swampland. It was built in the style of the Valley with a raised, pointed roof that crested from the front to the back like a chicken comb, and curved down on each side over the edges of the building. In the rainy season it would send dripping water out and away while in the hot season it acted as a shaded canopy. Despite its recognisable design, there was a wildness to it that seemed to give the impression that this structure had not been built by human hands but was the forest¡¯s own attempt at emulating the village. The wood on the outside walls had been set up roughly trimmed with bark still attached in most places. The dirt that clung to the skirts gave the impression that the house had not been built on top of the ground but had been birthed below it and was still growing out of the earth. Seng Nu put her hand on the door and then turned back to Zaw. ''Are you sure you want to do this?'' ''I can''t go on like this.'' ''It could pass in time.'' ''No. It won''t. I can''t live like this anymore.'' Zaw''s cane gave way and he almost slipped. Seng Nu rushed a hand under his arm to steady him. Inside, there was only one room and it was full of plants from the jungle. Nor Nor had said that the scents and the pollen would help disguise the hut and protect them from the predators of the forest, though Seng Nu suspected it was simply because Nor Nor wanted to be close to the forest at all times, even when she slept. To walk inside was not to escape the forest, but simply to move to a slightly less chaotic part of it. Flowers of northspice and sourslip faced the southern windows while pommeflower and marrowlai creepers sneaked up and out of their pots to make strange maps of green vine against the white painted walls. By the window she kept a bush of wild jasmine which she plucked each morning to make tea. Outside under the windows were rows of flowers planted from seeds Seng Nu had collected from the deeper forest, so rare the only names they had were in the language of flowers. They bloomed at unexpected times like strange feelings, their scent wandering into the house in the dead of night, to wake Seng Nu up with thousand year memories of the old Earth. ¡°Do you live here alone?¡± asked Zaw. He sat on an old tree trunk that poked through the floor. The top had been sanded flat, but the base was still a gnarled, twisting trunk which made it look like it was growing out of the floor. ¡°I thought there was another lady here?¡± ¡°Yes, Nor Nor, she raised me, but she died.¡± ?¡°Your mother?¡± ¡°No¡±. Zaw wondered how it was possible for someone so young to have lived here alone for so long. He watched her as she strimmed tiny pink berries from a potted plant into a small stone bowl. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen that fruit before.¡± ¡°Something to help you forget¡± said Seng Nu. As she looked under the wiry branches for berries just the right shade of pink, she thought about Nor Nor. She would take the berries when she had pains. Not for pains of the body, like headaches or fevers, for there were many other remedies the forest offered for those afflictions. She had told Seng Nu that these pink berries were for ¡°inside pain¡±. Every now and then. She would take one off the little plant and then cut it in half and half again. But the pain inside was like the dead leaves that blew into the house each year as the weather cooled. You could sweep them up and away, but you could not stop them coming back the next year. Making herself forget was her way of keeping her mind clean, if only for a short while. Seng Nu had almost stripped the plant clean and was mashing the berries up into the mixing bowl. She walked over to Zaw and held out her hand. ¡°Give me the flowers.¡± Zaw passed her a tiny bouquet of jasmine flowers. They were already yellowed and were half stained with the red from where Jin Bu had torn her hand climbing the tree. He had given them to her and they had ended the day crumpled by his bedside as Jin Bu was led back to the village. When he had woken up he made them a keepsake, flattened them between two planks of wood bound with hemp rope to stop them disintegrating. What was essential to this procedure was that Zaw knew the flowers were in the mixture. It was a praxis that was part chemical, part mental, a transformation that used the supreme power of the mind to enact its ends. Seng Nu added the flowers to the bowl and mashed them into a paste. She took a strand of her own hair and cut it into tiny pieces that she added to the bowl too. She had to make sure that it wasn¡¯t just the memory of Jin Bu she would dissolve, but the memory of her doing so. There would be no loose threads that could unravel everything if he pulled on them. Outside, the rain was punching through the treetops. It became faster and heavier as the moon dipped, until the sounds of each drop merged into one loud roar that blanketed the night. 9. A Walk in the Forest It had been two full moons since the night Seng Nu made Zaw forget. If someone asked him about Jin Bu, he would recall her as a childhood friend who had been close to him for a while, but he no longer knew of their relationship, and he seemed disinterested to talk about her. The rains had finally stopped and the forest sparkled as the soft earth gave way to new luscious shoots of green. ¡°You can fry these, but you need to soak them in water overnight¡± said Seng Nu, pointing out a bunch of chubby catkins dangling from the low branches of a goldwillow tree. ¡°What would I ever do without you Seng Nu?¡± beamed Zaw and then folded his lips together to suppress a grin, as he picked off the catkins. Seng Nu caught the expression ¡°Hey don¡¯t make fun of me!¡± she reached up a hand and made to punch him but pulled her hand back before she touched him. She was still unused to being friends with people, and was unsure what was appropriate when it came to physical contact. Of course she had touched Zaw before, when she had bandaged his leg and tended him by his bedside for three nights. But now, as they walked together through the forest, she wasn¡¯t sure what a touch would mean and whether it would mean the same thing for both of them. ¡°I¡¯m only joking!¡± said Zaw, giving Seng Nu a pat on her shoulder. ¡°I really do enjoy your company on these trips. Of course I already know about the goldwillow catkins, my mother used to make them for us when I was a child. But there¡¯s so much you¡¯ve shown me here in the forest that I don¡¯t know about. Like the barrel gourds we roasted on the fire last week or the three pointed edible flowers we picked already today.¡± He reached into his basket and picked one of the flowers out. At the centre of the flower was a circle of small golden anthers which sat on one large petal, triangular in shape, purple in colour. Zaw held it up to the sunlight. ¡°It¡¯s funny isn¡¯t it, this flower? We don¡¯t normally see three of something. Two legs, four legs, six legs, eight legs, two petals, four petals, five petals even. But never three. Except this flower.¡± He put it in his mouth and let the flavour roll around his tongue. ¡°Have you ever seen another flower with three petals Seng Nu?¡± But Seng Nu was barely even listening. She was still thinking about the touch of his hand on her shoulder. Later they walked even deeper into the forest, to an area so thick with life that even in the day the dense roof of trees blocking out the sun made it seem like evening. There were no paths either, just places where the trees parted. Zaw stopped to collect a bunch of white starflowers that were growing from the moss under an Oakenbore tree. Seng Nu frowned as she waited. ¡°What are you getting them for? They taste of nothing.¡± ¡°They make a plate look nice though¡± said Zaw, wincing as he stood back up. His damaged leg had never fully healed and it was unlikely he would ever become an oozie now. But the men at the camp enjoyed having him around, and after the camp cook went back to his village to marry, the men asked Zaw to take over the camp kitchens. It was a rough trade for a life as an oozie, but Zaw had tried to make the best of it. ¡°I added these to the feast dishes for the Gate of Winter¡± he said, offering Seng Nu one of the tiny white flowers. ¡°What¡¯s the Gate of Winter?¡± said Seng Nu while taking the flower. Zaw¡¯s mouth went ever so slightly ajar. ¡°You don¡¯t know the Gate of Winter? How could you not know the biggest celebration of the year. No wonder you weren¡¯t around a few days ago, you didn¡¯t know.¡± Seng Nu shrugged and said nothing. In fact she did know what the Gate of Winter was. Naw and her had celebrated it each year when the rains stopped. Naw had even given Seng Nu her own set of bells to call for the gate to be opened. It had always been a small celebration for her so when she had seen the camp preparing for their own larger Gate of Winter feast, she did not want to be a part of it. It did not feel like it was a Gate for her. So she had scampered back to her own home while the men rang their bells and ate. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Seng Nu, of course you wouldn¡¯t know about the Gate, you were brought up in the forest weren¡¯t you? Next year, you¡¯ll have to come, I¡¯ll get you a bell and cook you something delicious¡± ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡±. As cook, Zaw was not only concerned with giving the men of the camp sustenance, but wanted to know whether they liked it too. He had started by adding a few more cloves of garlic to soups, which of course got Kon on his good side. Then he had a competition with himself to chop the chillies as fine as he could, so that their zest would find every spoon that dipped into every bowl. The old cook had always just chucked whatever vegetable was around into the pot and cooked them all together, but Zaw began to experiment with amounts and measurements and to give lists of specific ingredients to the supply porters. Instead of one big pot, he would make two smaller dishes, and did not care that it meant more work, after all what other use did he have for his time? He found that carrots and ginger worked well together and so did sweet apples and rockroot. Squash vines went well with orange toms but not green ones. Of course all experiments were a risk and even Zaw knew he had gone too far when he served a green banana and chilli curry that most of the men had refused to eat and those that did politely declared the taste ¡°interesting¡±. When he wasn¡¯t cooking, he spent time with Seng Nu in the forest, searching out wild ingredients. Though he could no longer run and he walked with a noticeable limp, he was still able to go deep into the forest with her, as long as they left plenty of time to get back. ¡°Look at this¡± he said, leaving the path again and poking a stick at the leaves of a small ground plant. It had no fruit or flowers, but on each stem there were rows of thin leaves and as he touched them with the stick, the leaves curled and folded so they reduced in width, hiding the plant from any predator who fancied a bite of a thick juicy leaf. ¡°Fingercurl¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°I used to spend hours playing with them, waiting for the leaves to reopen.¡± ¡°How long does it take?¡± asked Zaw. ¡°I¡¯ve never stuck around to watch.¡± ¡°Too long.¡± Seng Nu walked on and had stopped by a hedge of bright red berries and was strimming them into her basket. Zaw caught up with her and took one of the berries in his hand and looked at it carefully. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Seng Nu smiled back at him ¡°don¡¯t pretend you don¡¯t know! This will go very well with apples and mushrooms,¡± ¡°This is not banberry. Look, see around the stem, there are thin green marks, like tiny blades of grass. Banberry does not have that. This is olmaberry. If you put that in your mouth...¡± He stuck out his tongue and crossed his eyes. Seng Nu dropped the basket and the berries, poisonous and edible, spilled to the forest floor. ¡°Oh Oh! I¡¯m sorry...I didn¡¯t know!¡± she folded in on herself and buried her head in her knees. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry¡± Zaw placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s alright. We haven¡¯t eaten them have we?¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t know...I could have killed you all.¡± Seng Nu sniffed. ¡°No you couldn¡¯t. My legs might be weaker these days, but my eyesight is fine enough. I¡¯m just surprised you didn¡¯t know yourself. I thought you knew all the plants in the forest.¡± Seng Nu said nothing. She picked up the Olmaberry and looked at it hard. The little green lines near the stem now seemed so obvious and alien. ¡°I don¡¯t know everything.¡±. Seng Nu looked down at the scattered berries. She picked up a handful and began to separate them out. Zaw crouched down beside her. ¡°There¡¯s about a hundred berries to sort through. You¡¯ll be an expert by the end of today.¡± Later they walked back to the camp. Zaw asked her to join them for the evening meal. Seng Nu always seemed to disappear as they got back to camp, sometimes she would even grab a bowl of curry before slinking of into the jungle to presumably eat alone. He felt sorry for her. ¡°And don¡¯t say ¡®no¡¯ this time Seng Nu¡± he said as she began to purse her lips in protest. ¡°I would hate for you to die because you ate the wrong berry.¡± said Zaw. Seng Nu screwed her face up in annoyance. ¡°Not that you don¡¯t have a great knowledge of jungle food¡± Zaw said quickly, getting to the point he was trying to make ¡°But a group will always know more than one person. Every poison berry we know in this forest represents a person who died. It¡¯s some of the most precious knowledge we have. And the only reason we have it is because we eat together. He put his arm around her and gave her a friendly shake. ¡°Which is why you shouldn¡¯t eat alone anymore, you¡¯re joining us for dinner tonight.¡± Seng Nu¡¯s shoulders tensed. The feeling of Zaw¡¯s hand on her was so overwhelming that she nodded with an affirmative mumble, just to get him to let go. He did. ¡°Great! I¡¯ll make sure to cook something extra special for you tonight!¡± They walked back to the camp and as they did the path seemed to be narrower than it was when they came in, as though the forest itself was trying to make them walk closer together. 10. Flashback Six years earlier On the day that Nor Nor decided to begin Seng Nu¡¯s training, she had walked with her to collect breakfast. She said she wanted to eat an apple straight from the tree. Before they left, Nor Nor asked Seng Nu to plait her hair. Like Seng Nu, she kept it at waist length, but age had thinned and washed it out. Seng Nu brushed Nor Nor¡¯s hair through with oil and then plaited it into a thin white tail. Nor Nor didn¡¯t normally wear her hair like this. She never worn her hair like anything. She had no reason to be vain but would comb it once a month just to remove the tangles, and then would let it get progressively more and more wild each day, until it had curled up into manic strands that made her head resemble the wiry creepers that grew inside the house. Nor Nor stooped down, groaning softly as her knees bent, and reached out into the wild grass to pluck a forest daisy. She pushed the stem through the folds of the hair braid and looked at herself in a bowl of water. She looked nice. Then she plaited Seng Nu¡¯s hair, commenting on the rarity of its dark orange colour. Seng Nu chose a dandelion for braid. She also looked at herself. She looked nice too. Seng Nu ran ahead. Nor Nor said the apple tree was young compared to the rest of the trees, but it didn¡¯t look that way to Seng Nu. The trunk was as thick as an elephant¡¯s leg, and rougher. She found easy footholds in the bark as she climbed up into the higher branches. By now she already knew which apples were ready to pick, but she waited for Nor Nor to arrive. ¡°See anything good?¡± said Nor Nor as she hobbled out of the forest towards the apple tree. She stopped underneath it. ¡°Yes mother, there¡¯s a nice juicy one right here, shall I get it for you?¡± asked Seng Nu, grinning widely. ¡°I told you not to call me that¡± Nor Nor said with a gentle snap. ¡°Hold on. Don¡¯t touch it yet. Describe it to me.¡± Seng Nu looked down and saw that Nor Nor was talking to her without lifting her head. Seng Nu wondered if she could if she wanted to. She had only ever known Nor Nor as an old woman and couldn¡¯t imagine a time when her shoulders weren¡¯t almost up to her ears. But even though she wasn¡¯t tall or lean, she had unmistakeable kinship with the trees that she had grown old with. Seng Nu had seen birds land on her shoulders when she stood in the forest for more than a moment and sometimes wondered if moss would begin to grow up her legs or berries would grow from her fingernails if she stood for any longer. ¡°It¡¯s green!¡± said Seng Nu, with a hint of impatience. ¡°I¡¯m sure it is¡± said Nor Nor who stayed on the ground, looking blankly into the forest. Even if she looked up, her eyesight had become so bad she wouldn¡¯t have seen beyond the first rung of branches. ¡°Tell me about it, is it big? How big, what kind of green is it? What does it look like? Tell me as much as you can.¡± ¡°It¡¯s so big, we could cut it in two and eat it for breakfast together!¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°If I held it in my hand and stretched my arms fully out, it would block the sun. And the full moon too if I held it at night. It¡¯s green...bright green, the colour of elm leaves after rain. And there¡¯s some purple too¡± She tried to think of something that was purple. ¡°Like a bruise¡± ¡°What kind of bruise?¡± asked Nor Nor. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°The kind you get when someone grabs your arm tight and digs their fingers in.¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°Tell me about the stem¡± Nor Nor asked after a while. ¡°It¡¯s like a fishing rod. The apple is the fish, the branch is the rod and the stem is the wire¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°That¡¯s a good description. Just one more question then. What does the apple say to you?¡± ¡°What does the apple say to me?¡± said Seng Nu, puzzled. ¡°Yes, what does it say? Imagine it could speak to you and then feel it speak to you¡± ¡°It says ¡®eat me, before I go rotten on the branch¡¯¡± she called down. ¡°Does it now?¡± queried Nor Nor, all the way at the bottom of the tree. ¡°I¡¯m not sure it does. Apples don¡¯t speak our language. I¡¯m not even sure they use words.¡± ¡°So, then why are you asking me what it says?¡± Said Seng Nu, with a mix of confusion and exasperation. ¡°I suppose that was a trick question Seng Nu. I¡¯m sorry. You won¡¯t be able to tell me what they say yet. They speak, and I use the word ¡®speak¡¯ in the loosest possible sense in a language all of their own. A language that does not come from mouths or make sounds. Still they are talking to each other, just like I am talking to you right now.¡± Seng Nu looked suspiciously at the large green and purple apple and the smaller redder one beside it and wondered if they were gossiping about her. ¡°They don¡¯t speak with sounds so you have to listen with something other than your ears.¡± Said Nor Nor. Seng Nu was now utterly confused. ¡°Well what am I supposed to listen with? My...¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡± scolded Nor Nor, although she was suppressing laughter herself. She composed herself. ¡°There isn¡¯t a special part of the body that we can listen to the plants or the wind with. It¡¯s more like a feeling.¡± Seng Nu still didn¡¯t understand. Why are you telling me this? aren¡¯t you as hungry as me?¡± ¡°Make sure you are holding the branch tightly¡± Said Nor Nor, ignoring the question for now. ¡°Why?¡± asked Seng Nu, but she did it anyway. She looked down and saw that Nor Nor was holding a hand out, her palm open. ¡°If we listen, we can understand what they are saying. When we understand the language of apples, trees, or even mountains, we can make polite requests of them.¡± Pip! What was that sound? Seng Nu looked back along the branch to where it had come from and saw the apple turning in the air. At first she thought it was the wind but then saw the leaves surrounding the apple were still. She reached out , but then pulled back and gripped the tree even tighter when she realised that the apple wasn¡¯t attached to the tree any more, but was floating, spinning in mid air. Then it dropped, or rather glided, downwards, slowly but truly into Nor Nor¡¯s outstretched hand. Nor Nor curled her fingers around the apple and then brought it to her mouth to take a small bite. She chewed the sweet flesh and then slowly tilted her head up, slightly straining as she lifted her eyes to meet Seng Nu whose face had the expression of shock and joy a child makes when they realise they will be living in a world with wonderful things. Naw swallowed the bite of apple and then looked at Seng Nu, with a smirk. Then she did something Seng Nu had never seen before: she leaned back her head even more and laughed. As the waves of delight shook the clearing. Seng Nu, in her wonder, began to laugh too and soon the forest, if not the whole valley, was alive to the sound of two bells, newly cast and ringing for the first time. Seng Nu was never sure if she had dreamed that day. 11.The Revolution Unfolds Green and orange tentacles poked out from the basket Seng Nu was carrying into the kitchen station. ¡°Lunch¡± she said, placing it down on the counter in front of Zaw who was still clearing away the remnants of breakfast. Zaw turned around, his face beaming ¡°Seng Nu! What have you got for me?¡± It was a genuine question, for he wasn¡¯t entirely sure if the thing in her basket was a vegetable or some kind of exotic river creature. Seng Nu took out one of the limbs, and the dangling roots confirmed it was a plant. She spoke in the clear and slow tones of a teacher. ¡°Last week we made sour soup with the leaf from the...¡± ¡°...Tigerbite plant!¡± said Zaw, finishing her sentence ¡°We made sour soup with it, but last night I made a tigerbite and red pea curry...¡± ¡°...And how did it taste?¡± ¡°Terrible, but the elephants enjoyed it at least.¡± Seng Nu laughed. Zaw was her first friend of her own age and for weeks and months she had been learning what that meant. She had approached the boundaries of friendship with caution at first, but quickly learned the give and take. ¡°This week we are not going to do sour, we are going to do...well go ahead have a taste¡± she took one of the green limb-like plants out of her basket and offered it to him. Zaw looked at it suspiciously. ¡°And you¡¯ve eaten this before?¡± Seng Nu sighed ¡°Yes! I¡¯m not trying to poison you, Everything I give you I have already eaten. If you find me dead in the forest then you¡¯ll know that I gave my life for your cooking art.¡± Zaw took a bite and almost immediately his tongue curled. ¡°It¡¯s bitter!¡± he said, spitting pieces of green flesh onto the counter. ¡°We need to cook it first¡± laughed Seng Nu. ¡°You offered it to me!¡± ¡°Yes, to cook, not eat raw!¡± Seng Nu picked the tentacle up and playfully slapped him on the head. She adopted the serious tone of a parent schooling a child. ¡°This plant, which I call greenray, is very bitter, but if you add just a little bit of it to a soup, it will give it an extra petal of flavour.¡± ¡°An extra petal of flavour? Sounds like something old man Kon would say.¡± said Zaw, still spitting bits of the bitter fruit from his mouth. ¡°Next time tell me how I¡¯m supposed to eat this before I take a huge bite! Why do you call it greenray?¡± ¡°Because no one has named it yet¡± ¡°I mean why the name...it doesn¡¯t look like a ray of sunshine at all. It¡¯s all furry and twisted, it looks more like a spider''s arm.¡± ¡°You must have seen some giant spiders.¡± ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right, no one would eat it if we called it spider arm, would they?¡± Seng Nu grinned. ¡°Sure, but you could have called your banana and spice curry rainbows and babysmiles and it wouldn¡¯t have tasted any better.¡± ¡°You¡¯re never going to let me forget that, are you?¡± ¡°I think My stomach has sympathy pains for those poor men you fed that too!¡± For Zaw, tradition was like sailing down a river, or at least what he imagined sailing would be like. He was happy to let the current lead, but would stick a paddle in the water if it tried to take him somewhere he didn¡¯t want to go. Sometimes he even sought out those unwelcome currents just because he liked the feeling of rowing against them. As a teenager he had painted his nails with charcoal just to revel in his mother''s horrified look. And maybe that was why he thought that something more than friendship was possible with the girl with no clan who could kick down trees and make leaves float into her hand. Seng Nu had begun chopping the greenray and looked over the canteen, ¡°What are they talking about?¡± said Seng Nu, motioned towards the tables where a group of men were hunched around a table. They seemed agitated and were in deep conversation. ¡°They are grumbling because the master is not giving them the annual rice gift.¡± ¡°They get it every year?¡± ¡°Only when the sale of timber has been good. This year was not a good year. Normally they would accept that, except that he¡¯s managed to find funding for that.¡± Zaw pointed out across the camp towards the Master¡¯s house. All the other men of the camp shared communal huts, but the Master, Dow Som, lived in a large two storey house, which had just been given an extension and a coat of paint. Its smooth surface gleamed so bright at midday that ducks would sometimes mistake it for a pond, and clatter against the roof before flying off in embarrassment. Seng Nu went over to the men to collect their finished breakfast bowls. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about the news,¡± she saidm her face frowning in sympathy. ¡°Thank you daughter¡± said Dai, one of the camp elders whose hair was grey, though he called it silver, and was so thin he no longer cared to tie it up but let it hang loose to his shoulders. He had worked at Buttersweet for almost twenty years riding Jaseik, the most senior elephant, who was perhaps the closest thing he had to family. Quite a few of the men here had no real families to speak of. Seng Nu knew that Dai and Kon had fought in a war years ago, but they never really talked about it, nor did they talk about their families much either. Neither of them had children despite their age. The men in the camp had got used to Seng Nu being around, but for many of the younger ones, they had little reason to talk to a girl who was neither kin nor marriage prospect. Aside from Zaw, her closest confidants were Dai and Kon. Kon would often tell her stories of a past that she was never quite sure existed or not. Dai was just as friendly as Kon, but whereas Kon would ramble on for hours on any given subject, Dai seemed to choose his words carefully, as if he had a limited amount he could use each day. He spent a lot of time alone in his cabin, whittling away. Other men would carve small animal figurines or playing pieces. Seng Nu had once sat down to breakfast to find an exquisitely carved wooden flower by her bowl, a gift from Dai. ¡°Anyone can carve an elephant¡± he had said. Dai and Kon recognised Seng Nu¡¯s praxis. They both knew what it was like to watch men die from wounds and when they had seen the red stained sheets from Zaw¡¯s bed being taken out to be cleaned, they struggled to believe that someone could have lost so much blood and recover. Seng Nu had done more for Zaw than just changing his bandages. Their long experience in the camp meant they also recognised that not even the most experienced of the oozies could have tamed an elephant like Pinkwetha as she had done. Some of the other men on camp remembered Nor Nor, the old woman who had lived in the forest years ago and was rumoured to snap trees in half like twigs. They kept a respectable distance from Seng Nu. They didn¡¯t want to get on her wrong side, but at the same time knew that if they were ever gored by an elephant or caught under falling timber that they would be glad if Seng Nu was there to heal them. And everyone was grateful for her tutelage of Zaw in the kitchen. ¡°What have you got Zaw cooking for us today?¡± Said Dai. ¡°We¡¯ve got some greenray¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°but I¡¯m making sure he¡¯s cooking it first, so it¡¯s not too bitter.¡± Dai ¡°Greenray? Who calls it that?¡± Said Kon. ¡°I do!¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°My grandmother used to collect it from the forest because no one ever sold it in the markets. She called it sungreen herself. I¡¯ll be looking forward to tasting it for the first time since I was a young boy,¡± said Kon, making a show of licking his lips. ¡°At least there¡¯s some good news for our plates today, if not our pockets.¡± said Dai, although his expression did not change. ¡°It¡¯s not the money though is it?¡± Said Kon. ¡°It¡¯s the disrespect. We worked so hard this past season to get the timber in. I¡¯ve been here for fifteen seasons and I know we had a good year. Yes, the prices in the City can change. But even just one extra leaf of jade would have been appreciated.¡± Dai sighed. ¡°There was no master in our grandfather¡¯s day.¡± A young oozie named Sut made a puzzled expression. ¡°But Uncle, I thought that Buttersweet has been here for years and years, hasn¡¯t it? If that¡¯s the case, then how could your grandfather have come back here with no master. The Master would told him to get back to work¡± ¡°I told you there was no Master, young ¡®un.¡± The boy still seemed puzzled. In his mind he was trying to disentangle the concept of a master from the concept of Buttersweet camp. ¡°Well if there was no master, who was the master?¡± he said and then instantly realised what he had said.¡±I mean who did the land belong to?¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re asking the right questions¡± said Kon, but before he could explain, Sut had slammed his fist on the table ¡°Why don¡¯t we ask for, no better, demand, our jade gift!¡± He rose as spoke. There were nods around the table and the muttering and discontent got louder. Like voles in the field as the shadow of a hawk passes over, the men suddenly became still. Seng Nu turned around to see Dow Som entering the dining area. He did not eat with the men, instead taking meals in his own house and he set his empty plates down on the table with a loud clatter. Around his mouth were flecks and spittles of food he had not bothered to wipe off. ¡°Why are you not at work yet?¡± he bellowed at the men, who were now looking at their hands in silence. It was easier to talk of standing up to the bosses when the boss wasn¡¯t standing up in front of you. Now their minds turned to what they would do if Dow Som exiled them. The idea of demanding their annual gift had dried up like rice left on the fire too long. ¡°Come on, get out of here and get to work before the sun is hitting the tops of our heads.¡± The men did not jump to their feet and race to the door, but got up slowly and calmly, as if they were in no rush at all. It was the mildest form of protest and the only thing they could do to salvage their pride after being silenced. Kon and Dai stayed behind to finish their soup. Dow Som glanced at them and made a stifled clearance of his throat that turned into an undignified snort. He span on his heels and walked out, apparently satisfied that he managed to clear out most, if not all, of the kitchen. Neither Kon nor Dai acknowledged him. ¡°We¡¯ll go in our time,¡± said Kon to the empty doorway. Seng Nu sat down next to them. ¡°Can you explain to me how things work here?¡± ¡°You want to be an oozie?¡± Said Kon ¡°No, it¡¯s not that. I know how things work, I mean the men cut the trees down and the elephants pull them back here, and then they are pushed down the river. Then the people down the river¡­¡± Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. ¡°How do you know it¡¯s people, Seng Nu? It could be monkeys. Rich monkeys who were thrown out of their forest abode and now live in castles made from our generous timber to build their houses.¡± Dai snorted. ¡°The important thing we give them isn¡¯t the timber. It¡¯s the time we spend collecting it.¡± Seng Nu carried on. ¡°Well those people, or whoever they are, they send us back jade which you can exchange for things like food and clothes. I understand that. Mostly. But I don¡¯t understand why Gunthaw gets jade too. He doesn¡¯t do anything!¡± ¡°Oh but he does do something. He uses his praxis.¡± Anticipating Seng Nu¡¯s puzzled frown, Kon leaned back and slapped his hands lightly on his knees, the sign that he was about to tell a story. ¡°You learned much of your praxis from Nor Nor, I dare say.¡± Seng Nu nodded. She couldn¡¯t see how Gunthaw had a praxis here though, what did he do? ¡°As you can see my own praxis is good at guessing connections.¡± ¡°Nor Nor was a smart woman,¡± said Dai. ¡°We saw how you saved Zaw, and we know you can whisper with animals and plants, command them to¡­¡± ¡°Not command,¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°Ask?¡± Said Kon ¡°Suggest?¡± Said Dai. ¡°Something like that¡± ¡°Your praxis is with the earth and its beings. Gunthaw¡¯s praxis works with the unnatural. The camp, the very ground we are standing on¡­it¡¯s not real¡±. Seng Nu looked at the yellowish earth on the floor of the kitchen, it seemed real enough to her. ¡°Oh and the dust is real enough. As are the beams and this table,¡± the bowls shook as Kon slapped his hand down on the counter top. He reached down and plucked a small wispy plant from the ground. ¡°What¡¯s this?¡± ¡°A weed¡± said Dai, in a way that almost seemed rehearsed, as if they were actors in a well travelled troupe. ¡°What kind of weed?¡± returned Kon with a flourish ¡°Given the general pointy shape and the reddish inner leaves, it appears to be brockweed, friend.¡± ¡°Right, and so Seng Nu, if we were to go back, let''s say one hundred years, to this very spot, and picked up this same weed, or something that looked very much like it, wouldn¡¯t the people there also call it brockweed? ¡°They would,¡± ¡°Right, and ¡­ ¡°...if they spoke the same language as we do.¡± Kon hesitated and a barely imperceptible frown appeared on his forehead. Dai smiled. This was a new interjection into the argument. Kon thought things through for a moment ¡°Well the language doesn¡¯t matter. It¡¯s not what they called it, but they, like us, would recognise this plant from its pointy leaves and reddish leaves. They would also know not to eat it..¡± ¡°Maybe not¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°We don¡¯t know plants are poison until someone tries them.¡± Kon sighed. ¡°She¡¯s got a point you know,¡± Said Dai, clearly enjoying the interruption. Kon, rubbed his face in his hands as if he were washing it. ¡°Forget the name or what they know about it, will you accept that the people from a hundred years ago would have shared the forest with plants like this and trees like these¡±, he moved his arms in a wide spiral towards the forest. ¡°And¡± he said, directing his attention back to the table, ¡°they would have also built tables like this and huts to sleep in just like we have now. In fact, I believe that this very table is a hundred years old.¡± Seng Nu nodded. ¡°So for the most part they had a working timber camp just like this. But with one big difference. If you told them that the camp was owned by a man, they wouldn¡¯t have understood what you were talking about.¡± ¡°Gunthaw¡¯s praxis is that he created Buttersweet as an idea, a thing you can own just like the clothes on your back. He has convinced us all that Buttersweet camp is not just the soil and the buildings but a thing that he holds in hands that are also imaginary.¡± ¡°How are the hands imaginary?¡± asked Seng Nu. Kon picked up his spoon from the table. ¡°This is my spoon and as you can see it¡¯s in my very real hands¡± Zaw, who was listening in as he was clearing up the tables, called over. ¡°It¡¯s not your spoon, uncle, I hope you aren¡¯t thinking of taking it with you today!¡±. ¡°It¡¯s not my spoon, but what if I wanted to fight you for it?¡± ¡°An old man against a cripple?¡± Zaw laughed. ¡°I¡¯d say we¡¯re fairly even.¡± ¡°Well, let¡¯s say, for argument''s sake, that we fought and I won the spoon for myself, and I carried it to my hut each night and punched anyone who tried to take it off me. And every day at breakfast and dinner you¡¯d see me clutching the spoon tightly. ¡®My spoon!¡¯ That''s what I¡¯d say. My spoon! I¡¯d even sleep with it in my fingers as I slept.¡± Kon hunched his back and closed his eyes, as if sleeping, with the spoon tightly locked in his fingers. ¡°Now this behaviour, of owning the spoon, might be rude, maybe strange, but it makes sense, right? Most people would agree that it would be my spoon. So when it comes to the land here¡­¡± ¡°Gunthaw doesn¡¯t hold the land here in his hands like you with the spoon!¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°Yes!¡± said Kon. ¡°He doesn¡¯t hold it like a spoon, because he can¡¯t. Not with his hands. But as we all agree that he owns Buttersweet¡­¡± Dai wrinkled his nose. Kon glanced at him but continued. ¡°...then what is he holding it with?¡± The three of them sat listening to the wind coming in and the distant sounds of crows in far off treetops. Seng Nu broke the silence first. ¡°I don¡¯t know what he¡¯s holding it with.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t either, not really.¡± Said Kon. ¡°But he¡¯s made us believe he is.¡± ¡°But he didn¡¯t just conjure the hand, but the thing that it¡¯s holding too. The big hand isn¡¯t holding this place¡± Seng Nu knelt down and picked up a handful of dust and let it falls through her fingers. ¡°It¡¯s holding something else. It¡¯s holding¡­¡± she scrunched her face up trying to think of how she could express the idea in her mind. ¡°It¡¯s not holding the real Buttersweet. It¡¯s holding a Buttersweet made of smoke.¡± Dai wrinkled his nose again in objection. ¡°He thinks I believe in ghosts¡± Said Kon smirking. ¡°Not ghosts.¡± Said Dai ¡°I believe in things that we cannot see. I believe in happiness, in fear, in love. But I think you are thinking too much about this. Gunthaw owns the land not because he has made us believe in a land that isn¡¯t there, but because he has a bloody big bloody sword that he swings about pretty hard.¡± ¡°Not anymore!¡± said Kon. ¡°Gunthaw was a strong warrior. the strongest. But the wind blows through his bones these days just as it does to mine. I¡¯m sure he can lift his old battle sword, but whether he can swing it is another story.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s why he has kept a small army at his command. He¡¯s the only person in the valleys that can call up fifty men to do his bidding. I don¡¯t believe a man should own land. I believe this land belongs to us all. But I work here and Gunthaw takes a share of my jade. Because he has a sword and his men have swords too. Sharp ones. Arrows too.¡± ¡°But over time we start to forget this. The land becomes a thing of its own, separated from its origin as a spoil of war.¡± ¡°But even if we stopped believing in the hands that hold the land. He could still command his men to come and slaughter us..¡± ¡°Yes but the ghostly hands aren''t just holding the land, but the men too.¡± ¡°But those hands aren¡¯t imaginary,¡± said Dai. ¡°We do not allow him to take our jade because we believe in things that are not there. The swords, bowman and archers that come to his command are real enough and you and I both know he would cut down anyone who tried to deny him his cut of the jade. He does not need to conjure imaginary places to do this.¡± ¡°I think we can both agree that if we ever wanted out of this, we would have to do more than just stop believing,¡± Said Kon. ¡°What are you lot talking about?¡± It was Dow Som, who, having nothing better to do had wandered over to berate the men. ¡°I know you two old peapods are too weak to ride elephants these days, but there¡¯s work to be done in the timber sheds cleaning the chains. So enough with the party.¡± As slow as land turtles, Kon and Dai began to rise from their chairs and make their way out. Seng Nu felt a ripple of anger rising up in her stomach. ¡°You should be ashamed.¡± She said. ¡°You tell everyone there¡¯s no money but you¡¯re able to find it when it comes to your house aren¡¯t you?¡± She spoke with anger, but also with the quiet assured confidence she had been slowly gaining in the past few months since she had arrived. Dow Som grimaced and rubbed his knuckles against his forehead in an attempt to simmer his temper. A season ago, when Gunthaw had told him to send the girl away and not to allow her to visit the camp, he had no strong like or dislike of her. As the months went on and it became clear that she would not leave, he had developed a growing hatred of the girl who disregarded rules like the birds ignored fences. He was well aware of how silly it all must have appeared. One young girl who skipped in and out the camp and no one could stop her. Even if he ordered some of the men to carry her out, they would refuse, claiming either that her semi-wild elephant that she treated like a pet would attack them, or that she herself had some sort of power she could wield. Now she had not just disobeyed him, but was accusing him of stealing! Dow Som had been just a boy when his sister Mai Pan married Gunthaw and during the war against the mountain tribes, he had fought sword in hand, next to his brother in law. Looking at his rotund body these days it was hard to imagine that once he had not only been slimmer, but had been a hero of the wars, who some said could best even Gunthaw in a duel. The fortunes of both men changed after the war. Gunthaw became headman, narrowly beating Dow Som in the Blackstone vote. Soon after Gunthaw appointed Dow Som as apprentice to the Master of the timber camp. That first year, Dow Som spent most of his time in the camp office, learning how to write and keep records and tally up each log of timber that passed through the camp. He also had to note and check the details of each elephant that worked there, their age, their strength, their diet, illnesses and injuries, parents and children. Most importantly, he collected the money that arrived from the city and distributed it to the men and himself. After a few years he became the Camp Overseer, which brought a high salary and a place of his own to live in, where he had remained ever since, his diligence slipping away with each year. Separated from the village and the body of the camp, he had learnt to love two things: food and giving orders. He had not grown into it graciously. ¡°Get out of here you filthy orphan!¡± he shouted at Seng Nu, his temper boiling out and over the pot. ¡°Hey!¡± Zaw came walking out of the kitchen area, ¡°Don¡¯t talk to the lady like that¡±. ¡°So, you¡¯ve decided to pet the puppy that follows you around¡± said Dow Som, who was now speaking more slowly and deliberately as he moved his words towards their destination. ¡°Well you can take her with you, Zaw, because I want both of you out. Pack your things and leave. Both of you.¡± ¡°You nasty greedy old man.¡± It was Seng Nu. She felt herself beginning to lose control of her anger. Soon it would rise up and swallow her in a fury. Dow Som, who was already at the limits of his temper, raised his hand towards her. It was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. The wall of the cook station shattered into splinters and dust. There, framed by the morning sun that streamed bright through the gaping hole, was the silhouette of a beast. Pinkwetha reared up on his back legs and let out a bone-chilling roar and there was little doubt from anyone who his anger was directed at. Seng Nu, whose own growing rage had quickly dissolved, called out to him and Pinkwetha came down onto four legs, resting in the doorway while puffs of steam came out his nostrils in quick furious breaths. Everyone else in the room had backed against the walls. Except Dow Som. He was already at the gate, his legs moving faster than they had for years as he ran out of the camp down the forest path towards the village. It was after that, that things really changed. /// ¡°You¡¯d better run!¡± Pinkwetha snorted in triumph as he watched the fat figure of Dow Som run out of the camp. He had known the Master since he was a calf, though respected him less than any other of the humans at Buttersweet. The human he most respected was the one he had known for the least time. He would protect her from anyone! He watched as Zaw hugged Seng Nu. Were they a pairing now? He would have to ask Auntie Chyar. Or maybe Seng Nu would tell him. He could not speak the thorny language of humans any more than they could trumpet as he did. The men could make themselves understood with their munchy treats and occasionally with their pointy sticks, but Seng Nu was the only one who could really talk to him. ¡°Get the others and bring them here¡± she said. He did not know how she did it, because her mouth did not move, but he understood her as clearly as he would his own mother. He scampered off into the forest, trumpeting an excited herald. Soon the other working elephants were trotting out from under the trees down the well-worn paths into the dusty ground at the centre of the camp. Auntie Chyar and Uncle Jhabow came first, together as usual. Then Old Tai, who was retired but moved quicker than his years. Uncle Jaseik followed him, nearing retirement, he was working half days now, but he was still the largest bull in the jungle and he made sure that his feet stamped louder than they needed to as he approached. His old nursery playmates Japhtu and his older brother Lekwai wandered in, with the swagger that new elephant workers adopted after a year in the jungle. Then there was Auntie Pi, Auntie Chosone and Uncle Powayoke. The oozies were still sitting on their backs, confused at their inability to coax them back to work, but secretly relishing a break themselves. Finally, Auntie Sama brought the children from the forest nursery, who bounded and bounced around her legs, wrestling each other with their trunks and pulling their playmates tails. each other¡¯s tails. Uncle Jaseik walked over, his face a small cloud that threatened a burst of thunder. The children stopped as soon as they saw him. The entire camp, men and elephants were now gathered in the centre of the camp. Pinkwetha wrapped his trunk gently around Seng Nu¡¯s waist and lifted her up and onto his back. She began to address the men of the camp from her high platform. She began quietly and nervously, her voice skittering from thought to thought like a mouse running between trees, but as she spoke it became louder and more solid until it was like listening to the voice of a thousand year banyan tree, or what Pinkwetha imagined a banyan tree would sound like. It was a game he played with himself on his forest trips. Willow trees spoke with faint shaky voices like whispers in the wind. Mango trees were like a storm of bells. Banana trees were delicious. No that wasn¡¯t that a sound, that was a taste. Banana trees, they sounded like... The cheering of the men brought him out of his reverie. The men had arrived with expressions of puzzled disbelief, especially as they learnt what had happened to Dow Som. But Seng Nu had captured that feeling of confusion and moulded it into something that was just as strong but more useful to the wellbeing of the men. Their faces now were animated, excited. On some of the men, joy was making an appearance. Even the elephants were trumpting in excitement. ¡°The master isn¡¯t the master anymore¡± said Seng Nu. The air was thick with rebellion. 12. Defenses The hot season seemed to begin the very next day and the final wisps of white cloud were melting into the deep blue sky. Though the canopy of the forest protected its inhabitants from the direct sun, at this time of year it also served to capture and bake the air within it. Jasmine flowers that had bloomed a lunar month ago struggled to make their scent stand out amidst what was now an pungent sea of warm rotting leaves and overripe fruit. On a normal day, anything with fur, hair or hide would be snoozing as the sun reached its peak and the forest would be as silent as midnight at this time. Yet this was not a normal day. It certainly wasn¡¯t a normal year either and even in the midday heat, Buttersweet camp was alive with the sound of hammers knocking out rhythms on wooden beams and timber chains clanking and jangling as they dragged fresh logs into the clearing. There were shouts, grunts, laughter, and the occasional song that rang out through the hot afternoon as the two land animals with the least hair in the forest built their home into what they hoped would be a fortress. Men and elephant alike were so busy that to the falcons that flew high on the airstreams above the forest, Buttersweet resembled a startled anthill. Their claim had to be defended. Two days later, a messenger from Blackstone village arrived in the early morning with two demands: Zaw and Seng Nu were to leave the camp immediately and Pinkwetha was to be captured and killed. ¡°The elephant is a danger to others and must be put down.¡± said the messenger, who spoke in a defeated tone that suggested he already knew that he would have to trudge back through the jungle with the request unfulfilled. The men stared at him for a while. Wondering who would speak first. If they had given in then, Gunthaw would probably have forgiven them, and put it all down to a touch of hot season madness to save face all round. ¡°He¡¯s only a danger to those who raise a hand against ladies,¡± spat Dai at the messenger. ¡°or perhaps a young man like yourself enjoys hitting women?¡±. The messenger, who had been sent by Gunthaw that morning, blushed deeply. They were not his demands. ¡°Any men who refuse to carry out these orders will be dismissed from work¡± he stuttered. ¡°I think Dow Som and Gunthaw are mistaken¡± said Sut, who was wearing a cocky smile like a medal. ¡°They can¡¯t dismiss us. We¡¯ve already dismissed them¡±. Even some of the camp men raised their eyebrows at this. It wasn¡¯t what was said, it was who was saying it. Just a few days ago the idea that Sut, who still pretty much a boy in the eyes of the world, could say such a thing about his elders, was unthinkable. The world had turned. The messenger could say nothing in response and he left the camp. Even after he had walked a fair distance back down the jungle path, he could hear the laughter and cheering of thirty four men, one girl and ten elephants. The rebuke of the messenger had given the camp their first chance to declare independence to the outside world, and there was strengthened sense of camaraderie and bravado, especially among the younger members like Sut, who rushed to the palmwine stores to begin dishing out what he called ¡®victory cups¡¯ to the men. Dai stopped him and cautioned that there was no time for celebration. They had not won anything yet. It was time for work. As he drove his shovel into the baked earth, Dai began to sing. Those who knew the words, joined in and those who didn¡¯t soon picked it up. And as the wood was chopped and the earth was dug, the hammers and spades dug out a rhythm to old songs of new rebellion. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. There had never actually been much of a physical gate to Buttersweet, just a place where the forest path opened into the clearing. But now they were building a wooden wall that would be almost as tall as Uncle Jaseik. Some of the men opened up Dow Som¡¯s house and found a cache of weapons hidden away in a storeroom.. The bows and the swords were supposed to protect the camp in case of an invasion from The Mountain, but no one could remember them ever being used. Zaw and Seng Nu were at the timber shed, directing Pinkwetha and his Aunt Chosone to carry the logs to the rapidly rising front gate. Zaw and Pinkwetha had made up in the weeks following the incident that cripped Zaw. He understood that the animal was not in his right mind when he went on the rampage, and that any attempt to keddar an elephant always brought a risk that the intensity of the training would lead to this. The young elephant had been bashful in the days after but when Zaw offered him fresh bamboo shoots left over from the kitchen, they were back to being friends again. Seng Nu was using her own abilities to nudge and adjust the heavy stacks of timber attached to the chains. Though it appeared that she was directing the logs with her mind, it was actually the living wind that was responding graciously to her thoughts. Given a firm and yet polite request, it could form zephyrs of power in the tiniest of areas, creating the force necessary to lift such huge weights. Zaw was looking out on the camp marvelling at the ant¡¯s nest of activity. ¡°I should ask you if we are all under your spell too, Seng Nu¡± he chuckled. Seng Nu hesitated as she was taken back to the stormy night where she¡­ We¡¯re not under a spell, my son¡±. Kon had arrived with Chyarmanine trotting behind him. Seng Nu was jolted back to the present ¡°And neither are the elephants!¡± she said, and reached up to greet Auntie Chyar with a smile and a scratch behind the ears. ¡°It wasn¡¯t just the rice gift, you know that Zaw¡± said Kon, unstrapping the metallic chains from Chyarmanine¡¯s bulky torso. ¡°The master has been pushing us too far for years now. Extending the logging seasons, reducing our home leave, fining us for not harvesting enough timber, even in landslide conditions. They pushed us and pulled us and now we¡¯re rolling down the other side of the mountain.¡± Zaw frowned, not quite getting the exact metaphor. He couldn''t think of anything that was pushed up a mountain. But he understood Kon''s meaning. We¡¯ll follow Seng Nu, not because she has enchanted us, but because we want to.¡± Kon had never been one to show his age, but in these past few days it was almost as if he was getting younger. His eyes were more brighter than usual and even his skin seemed to shine. ¡°And now, I want to have some food,¡± he said walking out and towards the kitchen. ¡°You¡¯re always eating Uncle, are you sure you¡¯re not enchanted?¡± Zaw called after him, but Kon was already making his way across the camp ground. ¡°No he¡¯s not!¡± yelled Seng Nu and she ran over to Zaw with a fist raised and a wide grin. ¡°Don¡¯t enchant me too!¡± said Zaw who made a move to run, but was too slow for Seng Nu¡¯s playchase as she leapt onto his back and wrapped her arms around his head. His leg gave way and with a grunt he collapsed to the ground taking her with him. His hands shot to his leg and his face contorted in pain. Seng Nu leapt back and lifted her hands up in apology. ¡°Zaw! Are you ok? I¡¯m so sorry¡± Zaw continued to grit his teeth and clench his eyebrows for a moment more, until his face unravelled into a broad smile, revealing his artifice. ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± yelled Seng Nu, who leapt on him again and battered his chest lightly with her fists. She was smiling too now. Zaw grabbed her wrists to defend himself and they were rolling together on the floor. The door to the shed slammed shut. Standing up, with faces red, Zaw and Seng Nu stood up and awkwardly brushed the dust off. No one was there. Only Pinkwetha was at the other end of the shed. The young elephant giggled at them, the way elephants do. 13. Leadership After five days the South gate had finally been completed and it stood taller than any elephant in the camp. There were two towers on either side with raised platforms that allowed for sentries to keep watch for anyone approaching. The sides of the camp were already hemmed in by the huts and building, and where there were gaps, thick hedges of bracken had been planted. On the other side of the camp the entrance way that led north to the river was now blocked by a trench and a gate of its own. Additionally, around half of the camp elephants had been moved to the north end, so now anyone who managed to break the gates down at either end of Buttersweet would be met by at least five loyal elephants who could squash them like ripe cherries underfoot. One of the first things everyone had agreed on was that all timber pay would be distributed equally. They decided then that the whole camp would split the jade evenly, assuming they could survive long enough to send the timber downstream. There would also be a fund set aside that any man (or woman) could draw for in times of need. The spirit of brotherhood that flowed through the camp like a constant wind had given them energy and they marvelled at how quick they had managed to erect the defences. There had been a few early discussions as to whether they would vote in a replacement for Gunthaw and Dow Som. It was inevitable that both Kon and Dai, the two eldest men, were the most popular choices. But they had both quickly refused. They both had a better idea. Seng Nu, Kon, Dai, and Zaw were eating breakfast in the cook station. Kon was eating his noodles slowly and precisely, almost one strand at a time, and was careful not to let any of the sauce spill on his tunic. Zaw was eating thoughtfully, sometimes closing his eyes as he took a mouthful, wondering if the sauce needed more or less spice next time. Seng Nu ate quickly and noisily, sucking up each noodle and talking as she ate. ¡°I don¡¯t know anything about cutting down trees or pushing timber! I¡¯d make a terrible master!¡± she said, in-between slurps. ¡°Don¡¯t take us for fools¡± Said Kon. ¡°We know perfectly well how to cut timber and push it down the river without someone telling us how. We don¡¯t need you to do that for us. But if you¡¯re the one holding the purse of jade, then they¡¯ll be less arguments between us, you see? And we were all there when you stood on top of Pinkwetha and made us see the same future. You¡¯re a natural.¡± ¡°What about you Kon?¡± Said Seng Nu. It was true that she had enjoyed the attention that came from the incident with Dow Som, but that had been spontaneous and she wasn¡¯t sure that she had the energy to give speeches and to face that attention every day. ¡°You are the eldest here and you even fought in the Mountain wars didn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°No!¡± said Kon, in a tone that was louder than normal and rung final. He caught himself, took a breath and then smiled at Seng Nu. ¡°I am old, yes, but that¡¯s not always a benefit, especially in defence. You have more fire in your eyes, girl.¡± ¡°And an elephant who comes at your call like a dog¡± said Zaw. ¡°That¡¯s always useful.¡± ¡°But this wasn¡¯t my idea, our idea¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°If we just change the Master, then we aren¡¯t changing anything are we?¡± ¡°Gunthaw was always the real power here.¡± Said Kon who had put his chopsticks down in order to gather his thoughts clearly. ¡°Dow Som was the master, and he gave himself more than everyone else yes, but he still worked on Gunthaw¡¯s behalf. Because he owned the land and took the profits. Right now, we have not just overthrown the master, but the power behind the master too.¡± ¡°But that just means there is one less Master¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°I would have even more power than either one of them.¡± Stolen novel; please report. ¡°Not at all¡± said Kon. ¡°The land belongs to everyone now. Gunthaw drew his power because he owned the land and that meant that every single branch of wood we cut down belonged to him. The land belongs to no one now. You wouldn¡¯t have the power to throw us out or take the jade we make.¡± ¡°Well then why call me the Master?¡± protested Seng Nu. ¡°It¡¯s a fair point, but¡­¡± Seng Nu raised an eyebrow and frowned ¡°you managed to convince people they didn¡¯t need to own the land anymore, can¡¯t you convince them we don¡¯t need a leader? Uncle, answer me honestly, do you believe we need a leader?¡± Kon hesitated. ¡°I¡¯m suspicious of all leaders, believe me Seng Nu. Even you¡± he winked at her. But, I think the men would feel safer knowing you are there. And I think you¡¯re in the best position to settle any disputes over the share.¡± ¡°So you want me to be your guard dog with a pouch of jade round its neck?¡± Kon paused for a moment and then laughed. ¡°Yes! Now you get it¡±. Seng Nu wrinkled her nose. ¡°Ok¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°I¡¯ll be your leader. But I don¡¯t really know about Timber.¡± ¡°And we wouldn¡¯t want you to tell us how to do our work either. You¡¯ll be responsible for counting and sharing out the money for us, and maybe leading us if it ever comes to a battle with Gunthaw.¡± added Zaw. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to count though!¡± whined Seng Nu. ¡°Yes you do, it¡¯s just like making a recipe and putting the right amount of each ingredient in¡±. ¡°More importantly.¡± Interjected Kon ¡°You¡¯ll also lead us in defending the gate if we are attacked.¡± ¡°Do you think we can hold off Gunthaw if he comes?¡± asked Seng Nu. ¡°He will come and it depends how many men he can bring. If we are matched, then then I¡¯d say we have the clear advantage in defence, but if Gunthaw can round up more, then I can¡¯t say.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t forget we have the elephants on our side too¡± said Zaw. ¡°Will you enchant them to fight for us Seng Nu?¡± said Jakan, an apprentice oozie and the youngest member of the Buttersweet team. He had just filled his bowl and sat down at the far end of the canteen. ¡°It doesn¡¯t work like that, They are not under an enchantment¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°And why are you sitting over there? Come down to our end. We won¡¯t bite you¡±. Jakan shuffled up to join them, barely hiding his smile. ¡°That¡¯s a relief to him, I¡¯m sure, given the way you eat those noodles,¡± said Zaw and then ducked as Seng Nu threw her spoon at him. ¡°But they do what you say, don¡¯t they?¡± said Jakan, who was determined to use this time to find out the truth behind the rumours of Seng Nu¡¯s abilities. ¡°Even Seng Nu wouldn¡¯t have been able to get young Japhtu to hold still this morning while we checked under his ears for damprot,¡± said Kon. ¡°That elephant is a fiery one.¡± ¡°She speaks to them though!¡± protested Jakan, ¡°Don¡¯t you Seng Nu?¡± ¡°Yes that¡¯s right. Just as I¡¯m speaking to you right now. But I¡¯m not enchanting you¡± replied Seng Nu. ¡°Then why do they seem to do what you say?¡± Said Jakan, confused. Seng Nu gave a half shrug ¡°Maybe it is because I ask them nicely.¡± Jakan had many more questions he wanted to ask Seng Nu, especially about her rumoured ability to kick down trees, but there was no time. On the other side of the camp, the old cooking pots that had been hung by the watchtowers were being beaten. Clang Clang Clang. Everyone seemed to take a deep breath at once. Gunthaw had returned. 14 . Battle Zaw climbed the watchtower, reasoning that if battle was to break out he would not be able to move very fast on his legs, so he would be of most use in a stationary position, even if it did leave him a little exposed and the climb up sent shivers of pain through his bad leg. A quiver of arrows and a bow were strapped to his back and he was both excited and afraid to be in a situation where he might have to use them. When he reached the top he peered over cautiously towards the other side of the wall and counted twenty three men, led by Gunthaw with Dow Som near behind him. They were close to the wall, well within an arrow¡¯s distance, which suggested they did not expect to fight. ¡°Who am I speaking to?¡± asked Gunthaw to the wall. Some of the men behind the camp walls breathed a sigh of relief, as the bright tone of his voice did not suggest a man who was about to launch an attack. However, the more perceptive in the camp could hear that behind that friendly tone was a simmering anger he was trying hard to keep in check. No one had ever defied him before and it felt like an attack on his very self that they would dare to stand against them. His name was in danger. ¡°Speak to all of us¡± said a voice from the wall ¡°Is that Danh I can hear? Danh, cousin of mine! Come out from behind this wall and lets talk. Don¡¯t you remember how happy you were when I gave you this job?¡± ¡°Yes I was happy then¡± said Danh ¡°But then you told Dow Som to make us work an extra four days a month.¡± ¡°And we didn¡¯t even get anything extra in our purses for it,¡± added Kon, shouting over the wall. ¡°Kon! Is that you my old friend? Remember when we fought together on the mountain slopes? We were brothers then!¡± Gunthaw could not see Kon through the wall, but he held his arms open in a gesture of friendship. Kon peered at Gunthaw through a gap in the wood. For almost twenty years he had tried to forget that war, but guilt was like a nail that kept the memory pinned to the wall of his soul. He could not tell you why they were fighting, but he remembered with crystal clarity the look in the boy¡¯s eyes as Kon¡¯s sword drove into his chest. How the pupils skittered with fear and then froze, forever, into hopelessness. They had won that battle on those heathered mountain crags eighteen years ago and then they brought sunset to the Mountain town. Gunthaw had led that final mission with a burning torch in his hand, eyes inflamed with a new lust. Kon had been set on guard duty, which was there way of making him participate and thus share the complicity. He had gone home after the war. Cried. Cried more. His older brother had inherited the family homestead so he went to work as an oozie, which suited him fine, he was glad to be away from everyone. Yet even in the forest, the sound of a log cracking on the fire, the smell of the mountain heather on the eastern wind, or when an elephant¡¯s wail found that uncanny tone that sounded like a women¡¯s cry, the memories would rush back to him and he would collapse in a bundle of panic and shame. On that day it was the wild glint in Gunthaw¡¯s eye that triggered the memory that haunted Kon like the roots of a tree haunt the soil. He didn¡¯t collapse this time, the Buttersweet rebellion had given him courage. He climbed to the top of the guard tower and looked Gunthaw in the eye. His body shook as he shouted but he did not break eye contact. ¡°You were never my brother, you were and you are a disgusting, low, man. You speak of brothers and friends, but you treated us as little more than the elephants, just animals that make money for you.¡± ¡°Well that time is over. This isn¡¯t your camp anymore. It¡¯s all of ours. We¡¯ve worked here for years, it belongs to those who work it.¡± Gunthaw¡¯s lips rotated as if he was chewing a particularly tough piece of fat and then his face stuck in a snarl as he spoke. ¡°This is my land. My camp. My elephants. Not yours.¡± From behind the gate, Seng Nu¡¯s head appeared, then she glided upwards until most of her body was visible floating above the wall. The men behind Gunthaw recoiled slightly. They had heard the rumours of a girl who lived in the forest who could bend trees and twist the minds of men and now there in front of them was a girl who seemed to be floating in front of their eyes. Dow Som¡¯s flabby hand shook as he pointed at her. ¡°The Enchantress! She flies!¡± he yelled and then, reaching into a pouch by his side, threw a handful of salt in Seng Nu¡¯s direction. ¡°Who gave you this land?¡± She said, ignoring Dow Som and looking directly at Gunthaw who met her eyes with a glare that seemed to drip molten iron. ¡°It is my great grandfather¡¯s land, and it passed to me as it should be¡± he growled. ¡°And how did he come by it? Did he find it in his pocket?¡± There were a few ripples of laughter from behind the wall. ¡°He fought for it.¡± He said, his voice low and simmering as if he knew what Seng Nu would say next. ¡°Well, if you want it now, you¡¯ll have to fight us for it!¡± said Seng Nu in triumph and there were sounds of cheering from behind the wall. Seng Nu rose even higher until her whole body was above the wall. She was standing on the tip of an elephant¡¯s trunk which was lifting her up above the gate. She stepped backwards onto the crest of his brow and the elephant raised his head to join with the cheering. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. The men of Buttersweet camp were making a show of waving their arrows and swords defiantly, but in truth they really didn¡¯t want to fight. The younger had grown up playing war games with wooden swords and hearing tales of their fathers and uncles fighting, but as the water reached boiling point, the reality fast approaching, that they would have to use real swords and stick them into real human bodies was not appealing. Many of the men waiting outside the gate under Gunthaw¡¯s command were having similar thoughts. They had been told they would be given jade for some guard duty, not to lay siege to a camp defended by men, elephants, and possibly a jungle witch. Then there were the older men, the ones who had fought in the Mountain war. They still remembered what it was like to hear men crying. There were only two men with blood in their vision. Dow Som had fought many years ago in the wars against the Mountain clans. Over time his memory had cloven itself in two, discarding the blood and the pain and retaining only an image of himself as a brave and bold young man who wielded a sword as if he had just stepped straight from a folk song. He was not delusional enough to think that at his age he could still fight with his youthful speed and vigour, but he was clutching a dagger in his hands and truly believed that he would best the first person to come over that wall. He had been shamed by the loss of Buttersweet and wanted to prove himself. Gunthaw was also ready to draw blood if needed. His reputation was at stake. Just a few days ago the name Hkanna Gunthaw meant strength and power, not just in the village, but the whole valley. If Gunthaw didn¡¯t reverse what had happened then he would be known as the man who lost a rebellion. He was older for sure, but if he could fight half as well as his reputation then he would easily win back Buttersweet. Strapped to his back was a longsword that was as long as his arm span and weighed half a blacksmith¡¯s anvil. He drew it and passed the length of the blade past his face, inspecting every inch of the sharpened edge. But then his expression changed again and became conciliatory.. He would try one last time to resolve this. ¡°I have been harsh in the past,¡± he said, aiming his voice as close to softness as he could. ¡°I have made mistakes,¡± he stuck sword into the ground and walked in front of it. ¡°I will raise your pay and two extra days of holiday a year.¡± His face beamed and his palms were open in a gesture of friendship. There was silence from behind the wall. The men in the guardtowers did not meet his eyes. ¡°Okay! You have fought hard for your money. Your pay will be doubled!¡± There was still no response. Behind the wall a few men, those who were skilled at numbers, raised their eyebrows. To offer double their pay, the camp must have been more profitable for him then they had previously realised. ¡°And the girl can stay too!¡± Said Gunthaw, with a flourish. He had given them everything they wanted and this was a bamberry on top of a sweetcake. What Gunthaw didn¡¯t understand was that the time for bargaining had gone. What lifted hearts now was not just money, but pride. When land was something that only one man could own, then pride was like a cake to be divided. But when the land was a gift to all, then pride was infinite and did not decay no matter how many joined. They shared the land the way the trees shared sunshine. Gunthaw could have offered them a year of holiday with full pay and they wouldn¡¯t have accepted. They were prepared to fight to defend what they had found. The men behind the wall roared again in defiance of Gunthaw¡¯s offer. Gunthaw picked up his sword and with a hand motion called the men behind him forward. They did not unsheath their swords or nock their bows, but instead took out woodsman¡¯s axes. Seng Nu, watching from the top of the gate noted with some puzzlement that each axe handle had been freshly painted in different colours. The men walked up to the wooden wall and began hacking at it with their axes. The Buttersweet men in the watchtowers fired their arrows, but they simply bounced off the large metallic shields that were being held up on either side of the attacking group. There were sounds of wood splintering and cracking as the gate that Buttersweet had built started to falter. The men behind the gate, who were elephant riders not fighters, began to feel their courage dripping away from them and the grip on their swords and whips loosened as they looked to each other for direction. They looked up to Seng Nu, still on the back of Pinkwetha. She did not say anything but turned and rode him away from the gate, his feet kicking up dust as he galloped to the north. Seng Nu and Pinkwetha reached the northern gate of Buttersweet and she called out to the sentry in the watchtower. ¡°Is anyone outside?¡± ¡°No, they¡¯re all at the other end¡±, came the answer from the guard. The gate opened on its hinges and Seng Nu rode Pinkwetha out. She turned him around and they dashed along the outer walls, galloping around the outside of the camp. The plan was to smash into the side of Gunthaw¡¯s men. Their shields would not stop an elephant. As they approached the gate, she could see that the men with axes had almost broken through the gate. She tapped Pinkwetha on the head and he lifted his trunk, blasting out a loud thunderous wail that stopped the men in their tracks. Seng Nu and Pinkwetha charged towards the men at the gate, who scattered. But there was a certain choreograph to the way they split in two, moving neatly into columns on either side of the elephant. ¡°Now¡± barked Gunthaw in command and then in one quick movement, the men on either flank of the elephant let their axes fly all at once. Every single one targeting Pinkwetha¡¯s eyes. There was a sickening sound, like spades breaking earth. One moment the elephant was bounding with giddy energy, the next there were cold metal axe heads buried into his face. Pinkwetha wailed a furious cry and Seng Nu was sent flying to the ground as he bucked and spun in agony. Most of the blades had failed to hit, but only a few were needed to hit their mark. The men ran back to the safety of the trees to where a smiling Gunthaw was standing. He had known that if he was to stand any chance of winning back the camp, he had to remove the elephant that took orders from the forest girl. And she had taken the bait he set when he sent the men to hack away at the gate. Seng Nu lay in the grass, her chest feeling like it had exploded. She rolled over in agony and saw the thick tree trunk legs of Pinkwetha stampeding towards her as the elephant raged in blindness. The stomping of his feet was so heavy she bounced as the earth vibrated. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of the pain. Perhaps it was a deep instinct, but somehow he missed her. Gunthaw ducked behind a thick oak as the wailing Pinkwetha stampeded past him. He noted the colours of the axe handles still embedded in the poor creature¡¯s eyes. ¡°River Blue on the right side and Lily green on the left! One extra purse for Tu and Ze!¡± he said and both Tu and Ze were slapped heartily on the back by their fellow soldiers. Gunthaw then pointed towards Seng Nu whose eyes were still vague and in shock as she slowly dragged herself to her feet. ¡°Get Her!¡±. She stumbled back to the gate and as she did rage ran up her spine and buried into her skull like a crown of thorns. She had only wanted to defend the camp, but now she wanted nothing more than to attack. She asked the forest to help her. Then the ask became a command as she told the trees to be angry too. She wrapped her will around the spirits of the forest like a tight vine. For many of the men, the last thing they consciously sensed was the splitting crack of the trees around them. Then the trees fell onto them, crushing them under the weight of their years. 15. Broken Limbs Six years previously After Nor Nor had showed Seng Nu her ability to make an apple pop and fall from a tree, Seng Nu was keen for Nor Nor to teach her. As they walked back to the cottage, She slowed herself to walk alongside Naw. But she already knew that the lesson had already started, so waited for instruction. When they got back, Nor Nor sank into a chair, while Seng Nu lit the stove. Later they sat, drinking cups of steaming herbal tea and watching the world wake up. This was their usual morning routine and they passed it in silence. They could sit together for hours, even days without talking, without feeling the least bit uncomfortable. ¡°Seng Nu, what do you hear?¡± said Nor Nor as she sipped her tea. Seng Nu couldn¡¯t remember the last time Nor Nor had asked her a question. Normally it was her that did the asking. Nor Nor knew so much. ¡°I can hear a crow...maybe twenty trees away. The stove is bubbling, I can hear that. A bug..I think it¡¯s a bee, maybe a wasp. it¡¯s buzzing somewhere behind the house, actually there are two of them.¡± ¡°Your ears work better than mine.¡± said Nor Nor. ¡°That¡¯s good. But listen without them.¡± Seng Nu didn¡¯t understand. ¡°Hear what makes no sound¡± said Nor Nor, taking a deep draught of forest air and closing her eyes. Seng Nu closed her eyes too and tried to listen without her ears. She could hear the two bees still buzzing behind the house and tuned them out, trying to focus. The water on the porch stove was simmering. Dupadupadoopadupadoopa it said, and as she concentrated she started to hear each individual bubble of boiling water pop at the surface. Dup dup doop dupa doop. ¡°You¡¯re still hearing sounds that anyone can hear¡± said Nor Nor. ¡°Let me give you a different way to think of it. When the panther is hunting in the forest, when she is looking for that first track to follow, you might think that her mind is as tense as her body. But it¡¯s not. Instead she keeps her eyes and ears open and lets the forest come to her. And it¡¯s the back of her mind that notices those little things out of place, the sapling that is curled just a little too unnaturally, the pad of hooves on dry leaves in the distance, the way the low branches sway after something other than wind moves them. She does not search for these things like a squirrel searches each branch of a tree for a nut, but she finds them like the snake who sleeps with his eyes open, unthinking but ready to pounce if something comes near.¡± ¡°The panther is looking for deer, what am I trying to find?¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°The panther looks at the whole picture and lets the details come to them. Do the same and let the voice come to you.¡± Seng Nu didn¡¯t exactly understand but she tried again, tuning out the bees and the bubbling pot, the squawking crow and everything else. She felt her body tense as it strained to hear what could not be heard. Then she let it relax. Soon she heard something.. It was faint, as though it was coming from far away, but it was there, she could hear it. It was a rumbling, softer than thunder but deeper than rain. It was a pure sound, with no beginnings or endings. It rushed on, unbroken. Seng Nu opened her eyes. Nor Nor was looking at her. ¡°So?¡± Said the old woman, her eyes faintly twinkling behind their misted glassy windows. ¡°did you hear something else?¡± ¡°I heard something¡± Said Seng Nu, ¡°a rushing rumble. It was far away but I heard it, it felt so real, but...¡± She bit her lip and looked anxiously towards Nor Nor for confirmation. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Interesting¡± said Nor Nor. ¡°you have good hearing¡± ¡°So...I did it?¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°no, you heard the river.¡± said Nor Nor. Seng Nu slumped down in her chair ¡°don¡¯t expect to get it straight away. It took me years.¡± She sighed. ¡°I should have begun teaching you this earlier¡±. ¡°What happens when I hear it?¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°You speak back to it¡± ¡°and then?¡± ¡°and then you can work with it. Once you find the whole picture, then you will be able to find the smaller voices. The trees, the leaves, the rocks and the branches.¡± Nor Nor put her tea down and pushed herself up to her feet with a groan and walked over to Seng Nu. ¡°Show me the bruise¡±. Seng Nu hesitated. Then she drew up the sleeve of her tunic. There on her arm was a faded purpley mark. The same colour as an apple from the tree. ¡°You went to the camp¡± she said. It was not to scold, not to warn, simply to confirm. Seng Nu said nothing but nodded. Nor Nor knew there wasn¡¯t much time. She had taken responsibility of a child who was becoming a young woman. There was beauty in that. But there was danger too. Putting a hand on Seng Nu¡¯s chin and gently lifting it, she looked into the young girl¡¯s eyes. ¡°Did they hurt you anywhere else?¡± Seng Nu shook her head before Nor Nor could finish the question. ¡°I just wanted to speak to them, but they grabbed me.¡± ¡°And then?¡± ¡°I shook them off and I ran¡± said Seng Nu, and as the memory of fear became fear itself, she began to cry. Nor Nor put an arm around her, one that comforted Seng Nu and also hid her own tears. After a while she let go and went into the house. She came out pulling a cloak around her shoulders and carrying some freshly cut leaves in her other hand. ¡°Mix these with water and then rub them into your arm¡± she said, handing them to Seng Nu. ¡°They will help the bruising go down.¡± And then she walked off down the forest path. ¡°I¡¯ll be back soon, don¡¯t worry¡± she said, and Seng Nu noticed that although she still walked with a hunch and a limp, her legs seemed to stride with a purpose. A few hours later she returned. She was no longer striding, but she hobbled slowly down the path to the house. She looked up at Seng Nu and smiled. It wasn¡¯t the awkward forced smile of a woman trying to make a scared child feel welcome in her home. It was a real one, an unconscious expression of relief. Seng Nu had set their table. Wild yams and red berries and then green apples and honey for after. She helped Nor Nor into her chair, and waited until they had finished eating to ask where she had been, even though she already knew the answer. ¡°I snapped a tree in half,¡± said Nor Nor. ¡°And then told them I¡¯d do the same to any arm that touched things it shouldn¡¯t.¡± They ate in comfortable silence and then Nor Nor went to sit outside while Seng Nu put a pan of water on the stove to boil for tea. Then she joined Nor Nor and they sat outside to watch the forest dimming. The bubbles in the boiling stove went dup dup dup dup. ¡°Poor tree¡±. Said Seng Nu. And two bells rang out to herald the sunset. It was still dark when Seng Nu woke up that night with the feeling that something was missing. There was an absence. She knelt next to Nor Nor, who still had a daisy in her hair, though the white petals had begun to curl like tiny grasping fingers. Not knowing why, she kissed Nor Nor on the forehead. Stepping out the house, her body shivered in the chill of the night. It would be dawn soon, she could feel it. She looked out into the darkness. How many animals and insects had died here tonight? She listened to the forest. A nocturnal bird hooted far away. She heard the beating wings of the tiny nightbugs flying behind the house. Could hear water hitting rock endlessly as it ran down the river. She strained herself until she broke. Just let go. And then, while the deep black of the night was giving way to the deep blue dawn. She heard the world waking up. 16. Guilt has a friend The morning sun was doing its best to gift Seng Nu with light and warmth. It peeked through the curtains of her room and spread itself out on her bed like a present. But Seng Nu did not want to know about the world. Since the Battle of the Gate, a whole season had passed, the rains had come and gone, but she still felt the guilt weighing her down like a stone in the stomach. In a fit of anger she had killed. She would only come out from under the bed covers for Zaw, who walked across the camp three times a day to bring her meals. Usually he brought them in steaming bowls and plates, but today, he was carrying a bundle of rice and snacks, wrapped up in banana leaf and tied with thin twine. He himself was the second source of guilt. She liked him. She knew that he liked her. But she could not forget that she had made him forget. How much of this was real? Outside, Zaw walked up the steps to what had been the former masters house, where Seng Nu now lived. She had made a token humble protest about being placed here, saying it was too big for one girl, but neither her nor the men would have tolerated her staying in the cramped dormitories. He climbed the thick beechwood stairs. This was the worst part of his day. He could walk perfectly fine on the flat ground, but climbing the stairs reminded his leg that it had been injured not that long ago and he had to slow himself all the way down to a near crawling pace as he took the stairs one at a time. Finally he came to Seng Nu¡¯s room and composed himself, putting on his most cheerful face as though he was putting on a tight yet well worn pair of boots. He knocked and opened the door. ¡°Come on¡± He said, doing his best to sound warm as he opened the door. ¡°We¡¯re going to see the elephants¡± ¡°Where do you think we are?¡± came the muffled voice from under the bedcovers. ¡°I can look out the window anytime and see one.¡± ¡°Not like the ones I¡¯m going to show you¡± said Zaw, trying resolutely cheery. He wondered if he should just whip the covers off and carry Seng Nu himself. then decided that would probably overstep the line. ¡°What¡¯s so special about them?¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°Are they pink?¡± She sat up and let the cover fall revealing a face that was creased and torn around the eyes. She had been crying not long ago. Though Zaw himself was part of the reason, his presence helped to dissipate the guilt, as if his smile was the sun that cleared the morning fog. ¡°Well actually it¡¯s the same elephants you know from here. Chyar will be there, and Jhabow of course, Pinkwetha too. It¡¯s their off day today, you know. It¡¯s not who they are, it¡¯s what they are doing that is so special. Come on, you¡¯ll love it. I¡¯ve even cooked your favourite, greenhoof curry¡± He held the bundle wrapped in banana leaves up and the soft smell wafted through the room. Seng Nu sat up a little straighter. ¡°Just leave it here, Zaw .I don¡¯t feel like going out. I¡¯ll eat it from the leaf if there is no plate.¡± ¡°Seng Nu. You haven¡¯t been out in a month. If you want it, you¡¯re going to have to come out with me.¡± Zaw wafted the bundle even closer to Seng Nu¡¯s face and then snatched it away as he made a quick turn. He stopped at the doorway and looked back. ¡°I know you feel bad about what happened, Seng Nu. But I promise you won¡¯t feel better if you stay here for the rest of your life. Come on, we all care about you. I care about you.¡± The last words seemed to stir her and she sighed and sighed again, but slowly she moved up. ¡°Fine.¡± she said, standing up and shaking herself with a shiver. Zaw walked out and took the steps again ¡°I¡¯ll let you get ready. Hurry up.¡± Soon they were both outside and walking out the north gate into the forest. ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to stay in bed for the rest of my life, you know¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°Just another month maybe.¡± ¡°I guess you like having me bring you breakfast in bed¡± said Zaw. ¡°And lunch and dinner too¡± ¡°I knew it!¡± They walked silently for a while. At this time of year, it never was as cold here in the low forest as it was up on the eastern mountains, but even so, the bark on the trees seemed to hug itself a little tighter in this season, drawing their leaves in a little more snugly and saving their fruit for the new years. The birds too appeared to be more cautious and measured in their movements, only venturing down off their branches and nest to the ground when they were absolutely sure there was a worm or a ripe berry for the plucking. Petals and nectar were only winter dreams for most of the flowers who saved their energy for a summer bloom and yet there were a few plants who chose to flower at this time of year. The daisystars were out, tiny flowers of silver no bigger than a twinkle that bloomed in their thousands across the forest floor. There were orchids too here in the cold forest, that opened their cups at this time of year to sate the thirst of the furry legged moths who flew between the cold trees. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°You said that I would feel better if I came out today.¡± Said Seng Nu. They had reached the river bank and were walking east along the banks. ¡°And you¡¯re right, it is good to breathe the air here. And to be with you. But that is what I was afraid of.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡± said Zaw. ¡°It feels bad to be happy.¡± said Seng Nu and then looked at Zaw for the briefest of moments only to quickly turn her face away. ¡°It feels bad to be happy when those men aren¡¯t here.¡± ¡°Which men?¡± asked Zaw. ¡°The ones I killed!¡± Seng Nu dug the heels of her palms into her eyes to wipe away the tears that hadn¡¯t yet formed and to hide herself from Zaw. ¡°How can I be happy after what I have done? It can¡¯t be right, Zaw. To do what I did, and to go on. While they are left behind as the world turns.¡± Zaw knelt down beside her and placed an arm around her. He rubbed her back gently as she let go of the tears. They were still close, more close a pairing than any two souls in the forest. But Since the battle, Seng Nu¡¯s withdrawal had put a hold on things going further. Zaw wished they could meet each other¡¯s smiles again. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault Seng Nu. Gunthaw and those men, they would have done the same to us you know. You saw the way Gunthaw held that sword. How he spoke about us. You did what you had to do. For all of us.¡± ¡°I was angry at what they did to Pinkwetha, but it felt like I wasn¡¯t myself, like I was watching myself doing something I couldn¡¯t stop. What if it happens again? What if I can¡¯t control myself?¡± Seng Nu also knew that what had happened went against everything Nor Nor had taught her. She had commanded the trees, not asked them. Zaw leaned in and hugged Seng Nu close. ¡°It won¡¯t. Because I know you aren¡¯t that person.¡± Zaw held Seng Nu and he held her for a long time. Zaw¡¯s arms felt like a tight nest of comfort to Seng Nu, but she felt desire too. It came from the same roots as her early jealously, from the place that had told her to use the memory trick. But now, instead of the thickness of guilt, there was a dizzy feeling of floating. After a while the silence was broken by a crashing, splashing sound coming from further down the river. Seng Nu wanted to ignore it, but after a short time, she heard it again. Normally only the timber hitting the river was large enough to make that sort of sound, but it was not the rainy season yet and the logs were not ready to travel. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I wanted to show you¡± Said Zaw. ¡°Come on.¡± He took her by the hand and led her further up the river path. They finally came to a curve in the river where a lagoon had formed by the banks. It was deep even in the dry season and the elephants came here to bathe and be bathed year round. Old grandfather Tai had propped himself up against the bank, his lower legs in the water. The position didn¡¯t look comfortable to Seng Nu but he had his eyes closed and looked blissful enough. On the other side of the lagoon, some of the younger elephants were playing, squirting each other with water from their trunks and pushing and shoving each other in the merry way that only children can do. ¡°So what did you bring me here to see?¡± asked Seng Nu. In fact she was more than satisfied to have come to the forest with Zaw today and didn¡¯t even care if the promise of something special had been just a trick to get her out the house. She had already shared something special with Zaw. ¡°Look over there.¡± Zaw pointed to the far end of the lagoon where the thick willow trees hung over the water like sentinels. Between them was another wooden structure, not a tree but a platform of sorts. ¡°We built it for them.¡± It was a huge piece of polished wood that must have been made from many trees put together. It was almost as wide as the huts and was held at a curving angle so that the bottom of it dipped just above the surface of the water while the other end stretched up and away into the forest almost reaching the very tops of the trees. It was polished smooth and was wet, even though it had not been raining. Seng Nu frowned and tilted her head to try and understand ¡°What is¡­?¡± But at that moment her question was answered for her. At the very top of the platform she saw a black shadow in the unmistakable shape of an elephant. Her mouth dropped open. ¡°There¡¯s a hill made of earth behind, so they can climb up¡± Said Zaw, anticipating her question. And then the elephant, high upon the platform, sat his bottom down on the wood. And began to move towards them, sliding down the ramp, picking up speed. As he reached the end, the curve lifted him up and he sailed above the lagoon for a short distance before landing with a heavy splash in the centre, sending thick blooms of water into the air above the pool He raised his trunk and squealed merrily. Zaw had a proud expression as he turned to Seng Nu, after all the elephant lagoon slide had been his idea. ¡°What do you think?¡± He asked. But Seng Nu was already off, racing around the pool towards the slide. ¡°I want to try it!¡± she yelled in delight. 17. Roseberry The cold season kept turning in the forest, until the heat started to seep in with the spring. Jasmine bloomed all the year round, but the spring flowers had a scent that was sweeter that any other time of year. Trees that had been ringed a year before were cut down and set to rest on the high banks of the river. Old trees were marked for next years harvest and saplings were planted. Then the heat came and lasted so long that everyone forgot what it was like to be cool. Finally the circle caught itself up and the rains came again. The banks of the river swelled and the water rose up the banks to take the logs and send them down the river, where they sailed out of the forest and past the plains before finally reaching The City. A place no one from Buttersweet had ever been. ¡°Roseberry! Roseberry!¡± came a merry shout from the watchtower at the gate and soon that one voice became many and men all over Buttersweet were chanting the words in a rising and falling melody. A cheer went up as a flock of doves came into view above the camp and the men ran to the edges of the forest where the thickets of wild Roseberry grew. The doves came in to land at the rear of the large house at the north of the camp, where they had landed each season past for years. The men returned from the forest and stood outside the house, lightly jostling each other for position. To an outsider it might have looked as if they were prospective suitors for her hand in marriage, as each one was cradling a branch or sprig of Roseberry and holding an expectant, enthusiastic look on their faces. It was not a necessity to feed them this particular plant, the doves would fly back to the City after a few days rest whether they ate Roseberry or not. Yet it was because it was unnecessary that the act had gained meaning and was now a firm pillar of Buttersweet culture. Roseberry was the favourite treat of the doves. After the river sent the wood to the City, The City needed to send the payment to the forest. The City was at least ten days walk from Blackstone village and neither the men of Buttersweet nor the men of the city wanted to be away from their home for that long. The solution had been to send doves, trained and bred to fly great distances, with little bags tied to their legs. Inside were pieces of jade carved into delicate leaves. Each piece was only the size of a man¡¯s thumb and cut so thin you could see right through it. The jade leaves could be traded in The Valley for goods. When the system started it had taken a while for the people of The Valley to accept the leaves from the elephant camp workers, but they had come to accept it. In the early days, the men from The City circulated an announcement that if they brought thirty leaves to the city it would be exchanged for one ox. Of course no one ever actually hiked to The City to trade their jade pieces, but the promise had meant they began to accept the pieces for trade, until quickly they had forgotten all about the ox and began to think only in terms of the jade leaves. Many in the camp had wondered if the agreement with The City would still hold. Perhaps Gunthaw had sent messengers there to tell them of the rebellion. After the logs had sailed down the river there was an anxious month waiting for the winged reply, but here it was, The City seemed not to care who sent them the timber, as long as they received it. The shouts from the men were more joyous than years past. This was their earnings and they wouldn¡¯t be sharing it with a boss and landowners who did nothing to earn it. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. When all the doves had landed, Seng Nu took the small iron key from around her neck, and opened a lock box. Inside the box was another key which she used to open the door to the rear balcony that looked out onto the northern forest. Perched on beams and waddling on the floor were fifty exhausted doves, softly cooing in expectation. After she had taken each bag from around the ankles of the doves, she laid out the jade pieces on the wooden table that stood in the entrance hall of the house. It was simple enough to count each piece out and then she divided the total into separate bundles for each of the thirty or so men who worked in the camp. Each of them came, picked up their bundle and went upstairs to the balcony to feed the birds. Since the Battle At The Gate, Seng Nu had felt guilt like a stone in her stomach. Not a day passed when she didn¡¯t think about the men who had perished under her trees she had forced down. She thought of their families too. Their hopes and dreams which were now scattered to the wind like the particles of crushed dry leaves. She had never intended to use her powers that way. She had thought to use them only to scare or block, not to kill. But a rage had gripped her and she had lost control. For the months after she had rarely left the master¡¯s house, and would not make eye contact with anyone except Zaw. She had seen her true potential now, knew that she could and had used her power for destruction and part of her worried that being in the world might awaken that killing rage again. Many of the men of the camp were upset too at how things turned out at the Gate, almost every man at the camp knew one or two of the dead soldiers as a relative or clan cousin. There were some dark hints among some that with Gunthaw¡¯s escape, the wrong man had survived. Few blamed Seng Nu for what had happened, although the younger men were more cautious around her. Some of the older men, who had seen battle before, thought her and the others naive to expect that it wouldn¡¯t have ended this way. They had never wanted to kill either, but knew from experience that claims to land often ended in bloodshed. They too had seen friends cut down in battle and knew what it was like to feel the red rage. She was not a leader in the way Dow Som was. She simply organised certain things, like the distribution of the jade, and the storing of the workers fund. She had the responsibility to take stock and her ability to harness the power of the forest didn¡¯t mean she could skip learning how to take stock reports. She learnt how to mix and knead numbers together until there was a figure that equalled their value in Jade. It was a different type of magic. She did not take any jade for herself, claiming that the forest had fed her all her life and she couldn¡¯t eat a stone. But the men, especially the older ones, made her put aside some for herself, saying she might need it one day. Seng Nu put them in a box under her bed. She was also, undoubtedly, the champion of the camp, although this was unspoken. Even though there had been bloodshed, there was a feeling of pride in Buttersweet that Seng Nu had protected them in a way that no one else could have. It almost felt like a reward for the years they had spent toiling for timber. Zaw had joined her in the masters house. Her cottage in the woods was now empty. There were a few grumblings in the camp. An unmarried man and woman living together was unheard of in the Valley, although it was pointed out to the muttering voices that they could barely complain about tradition when they had rebelled against Buttersweet¡¯s landholder the previous year. Rebellion was their way of life now. It had seeped into the camp like smoke. 18. Wealth After everything had been paid out, the camp was in high spirits. Zaw stood on the front verandah of the masters house, deep in thought. ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡± said Seng Nu walking over to him and as she approached he drew his arm around her waist pulling her in, but kept his eyes forward his expression still serious. ¡°Where are they going to spend their earnings?¡± he said in a tone suggesting that the answer was nowhere near. Seng Nu nuzzled her head into his side. ¡°They won¡¯t go to Blackstone, but there are plenty of other villages¡± ¡°There are, but the men that Gunthaw brought here with him to the Battle came from those other villages too.¡± Seng Nu clung to Zaw for a few more silent moments, and then without warning sprang up and ran to the parade ground and whistled loud for attention. She was no longer the quiet mouse that she had been when she first came to Buttersweet. Pinkwetha came trundling from the north stable at her whistle. He had never regained his sight and Seng Nu had tied a thick strip of red cloth around his head to cover the empty wounds around his eyes. Even she could not heal him. But with his blindness, he had learnt to get around the camp without bumping into anything. His banana leaf ears and his thick vine of a trunk helped him hear and feel his way around. And his nose would always lead him in the direction of freshly snapped sugar cane. Some of the men joked that he must have an extra pair of eyes in his mouth. Pinkwetha lifted Seng Nu onto his back and then she gave a second whistle, this one for the humans, who soon circled her She held out a pouch. ¡°This is my share of this season¡¯s payment¡± She said and tipped it up, letting the jade pieces tumble onto the dusty ground. Take it with you when you go to the Valley towns and distribute it among the families of the men who fell at the gate. This will bring us...¡± she struggled to find the right word ¡°Fortune?¡± ventured someone. ¡°Protection?¡± came a more cynical voice. ¡°It will not bring us anything.¡± Said Zaw. Some of the eyes in the crowd widened at the site of Zaw of all people openly contradicting Seng Nu who had adopted a puzzled look herself. ¡°It will not bring us anything. Nothing we can hold, nothing we can use. For now at least. But it is the right thing to do¡± said Zaw, and he took out his own pouch. ¡°I cannot walk far enough to see this done, but take my Jade pieces too and see they are given to the families.¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°And what of our families?¡± said a voice in the crowd. ¡°We have worked hard and now we cannot share our fruit with them?¡± ¡°Of course you can¡± said Seng Nu. ¡°What you do with your jade is up to you. Maybe some of you might give just a little. We have had a good return this year.¡± ¡°Those men knew what they were doing when they came here. They knew the risks¡±. Said Sut, who was in his second year and was not eager to share his prize with anyone. He was only a year younger than Zaw and spoke as though he was eager to prove himself. ¡°I think you are forgetting that without Seng Nu here you would have had less in your hand than you have now¡± Said Kon, who looked sternly at the junior. ¡°Kon is right, Seng Nu took an equal share of Jade, not a master¡¯s portion¡± Said Dai, doing his best to walk the line between paternal and strict. ¡°With her as master we have more for ourselves than ever.¡± Sut tilted his head and let his thick straw hair dangle over his eyes, partly in defiance, partly to avoid having to look either in the eye. ¡°She is not the master here.¡± He said. ¡°We are all masters, isn¡¯t that what we...¡± but he let his words fall to the floor as his elders glared at him. ¡°Wait¡±. Said Seng Nu. ¡°Dai, thank you, but Sut is right. I am not the master here.¡± She put a hand on Sut¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Never be afraid to speak your mind.¡± she said, doing her best to look past his mop of hair to where she thought his eyes were. Then she let go and looked at the rest of the men. ¡°We are all equal here.¡± ¡°Then why are you ordering us to give our money to the families of men who tried to kill us?¡± came another voice. ¡°I¡¯m not ordering you¡± said Seng Nu, her voice started to waver again. ¡°You can do what you want!¡±. Zaw had stepped in again to speak. ¡°None of us have to give a portion of our jade to those men¡¯s families. Seng Nu is not commanding you. Has she ever forced you to do anything? She is making a suggestion. When we ran Gunthaw out of here and took the camp for ourselves, didn¡¯t we say this would be a different place? Or did we just create more Gunthaw¡¯s, hoarding our money close and only looking after our close kin?¡± ¡°The boy speaks well,¡± said Kon. ¡°We must show the Valley we are different, that what we have made here is not just a change in our wealth, but in our hearts too.¡± and he took out a piece of jade from his shoulder bag and held it up for the camp to see. Seng Nu interrupted. ¡°Wait. I do not want to see who will give and who will not. No one should feel pressured by the eyes of others. I will leave a bag next to the door of my house. Put your jade in there if you want to.¡± Zaw raised a hand. ¡°what if someone steals from the bag?¡± There were grumbles and expressions of hurt from around the gathering. ¡°Well a crow might stick his beak in!¡± Zaw protested. ¡°Like this?¡± said Jakan who made his fingers rigid and snapped them towards Zaw¡¯s nose. The tension of the afternoon broke as everyone else joined in, laughing as they chased each other with their own snapping crow beak hands and wrestled in the dust. Kon stepped aside to speak to Seng Nu. ¡°I¡¯ll make a lockbox for you with a hole in the top that will let jade in, but stop any hands or beaks from taking it out.¡± At the end of the week, Seng Nu calculated that just over half of the camp had donated to the families fund. 19. Family Zaw was outside the old master¡¯s house chopping vegetables for the evening meal. In the brotherly spirit of the new camp, all meals were now held at the front of the large house instead of the kitchen area. The hot season was almost over and after sunset, a cool refreshing wind would blow through the forest. The beetles who spent their days lounging on leaves were making way for the crickets, who would take the night shift. Overhead, clouds had begun to form but it the earth had not yet been quenched by the sky¡¯s gift of rain, there would be enough hot food and palm wine to keep everyone warm. ¡°Thanks for today¡±. After the Seng Nu had been at the river that evening, helping to give the elephant¡¯s their weekly bath. As she sat by and her hair was still wet and smelled of the lemony chomaleaves they used to make a lather. ¡°Not a worry¡± Said Zaw, keeping his eyes on the greenhoof he was carving into delicate flowers. Despite Seng Nu¡¯s insistence that the root vegetable was edible, he decided it worked better as a decoration. ¡°We make a good team don¡¯t we?¡± she said and jumped forward to wrap her arms around Zaw and planted a long kiss on his cheek, edging her lips around his face till they met with his own. Zaw tried to keep cutting vegetables but eventually dropped the knife and spun round to embrace Seng Nu. ¡°Remember to lock the doves up tonight.¡± Said Zaw ¡°It feels wrong to keep birds caged up like that.¡± Seng Nu replied. ¡°I¡¯m sure they don¡¯t mind having a metal bar between them and the beasts that come out at night in the jungle. They¡¯ll have their freedom next week when they fly back to the city¡± ¡°And the bars will also protect them from any cooks who want to serve up dove curry tonight!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t give me any ideas!¡± ¡°Zaw¡± said Seng Nu and gave him a serious look. ¡°What is it?¡± he said. ¡°Are people scared of me?¡± ¡°No. Why would they be scared of you?¡± Zaw squeezed her waist and kissed Seng Nu on the top of her head. ¡°Sut. Today after he spoke out, he gave me a look. Like he regretted saying what he had.¡± ¡°Well maybe he did regret it.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°No. I mean it wasn¡¯t as if he didn¡¯t believe it, he regretted it because he was afraid. Afraid I might go into a rage and knock a tree down on him.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure he didn¡¯t think that.¡± ¡°Sometimes I think that.¡± Seng Nu buried her face into Zaw¡¯s chest wiping her tears on his tunic. ¡°At the Gate, when I brought down those trees, I did not plan that. To feel that angry. It felt like I was exploding. I could not stop myself. Sometimes I am afraid of myself, Zaw. I became something else then, I became a Master, Zaw, and not a good one.¡± Zaw did not know what to say so he held her and wiped her tears. His life was a physical one and he knew little of Seng Nu¡¯s praxis. He held her close and wiped her tears. xxx Later, as the whole camp ate together under a purple sunset, some of the men began to consider inviting their families to the camp. The Gate of Winter was approaching and they had grown tired of opening it by themselves. ¡°It has never felt right, ringing it open without our families here with us¡± said Dai, ¡°Not that I didn¡¯t appreciate your cooking last year Zaw¡± he added. ¡°Well why don¡¯t we invite them here¡± Said Kon. ¡°But where will they stay?¡± ¡°They can, with us¡± Said Dai, a glint in his eye. There was muttering and groaning around the table at the thought of the dormitories being shared by men and women, even married ones. ¡°Don¡¯t you all start putting out my dream of a Gate with my family this year¡± said Dai. ¡°We would never do that¡± Said Seng Nu. ¡°The camp belongs to you as much as it does to anyone. You can invite whoever you want¡± There were sounds of agreement and the voices around the table bubbled and rose and before long they had all arrived at the sweet outcome of the conversation: Buttersweet would become a village. ¡°Why not!¡± said Kon, raising a cup of palm wine in a toast. And long after the moon had swept over the clearing, they were all still awake and dreaming. xxx It was as if they had never slept. They had all finally gone to bed late, but were awake early and the excited chatter continued where it left off. There was a determination not to let the new dream fade It was decided to start the new village in shifts. Half of the men would take half of the elephants out into The Valley to trade for supplies and bring back their families, The rest would stay at the camp. ¡°And what if your wife doesn¡¯t want to move Danh?¡± Said Zaw to Dai who was strapping on a saddle to the young bull Japhtu. ¡°Don¡¯t you go taking me for a bad one young Zaw¡± Said Dai, reproaching the boy who was almost 15 years younger than him. ¡°Don¡¯t be talking to me about wives when you haven¡¯t even asked Seng Nu to marry you yet.¡± Zaw blushed. ¡°As for my lovely lady, each season I return back to the homestead, she tells me that the roof is leaking and the rats are getting in through the holes. And each time she asks if she can come back with me. So I don¡¯t assume anything Zaw, but I have a guess what her answer will be.¡± Zaw nodded, slightly embarrassed to have brought up the subject. But he still wondered if everyone else would have such an easy time convincing their families to move here. He looked over to the house where Seng Nu was talking to Kon and thought that he was lucky to have her right here. 20. The Gates Jhabow had been born on an eastern facing hill where the sun shone bright from the moment it arrived on the horizon. Cautious morning eyes were a habit he had never grown out of, even here in the jungle where the trees shaded the glare and the dawn was a gently lifting light. He always slept standing up, and could go from deep sleep to alert and angry in a matter of seconds if a night predator dared to approach. But nothing had disturbed him that morning and knowing that he had a long day ahead, he allowed himself the luxury of waking up slowly. He felt the light over his thick lids and then let the energy flow along his shoulders and back until it finally reached his tree trunk like feet and he lifted them to shake off the last grains of the night. Chyarmanine would be back today. How long would they have together? By the afternoon it would be his turn to go out into The Valley and she would stay and help build the new village. Seng Nu has been clearing the forest in order to widen the camp ground and Jhabow had been carrying the dead timber to the men, who then cut it into planks and beams for the new buildings. He allowed his thoughts to turn to gifts that might be coming from the Valley. He closed his eyes again and felt his mouth water at the thought of redcorn cobs from Seesan town and white cherries from The Hillfeet. ¡°HMMPHHHH!¡± Chyar! He turned around to meet her and raised his trunk in delight and responded with a happy trumpet. On her face was a smile that asked ¡°were you thinking of me or food just now, huh?¡± Jhabow answered with his trunk, hugging it around hers.. /// Buttersweet was becoming more than just a work camp for timber. An area twice as large as the original camp had been cleared away, and the foundations of new buildings were being driven into what was once forest floor. At the northern end, the camp was being extended closer to the river, and a channel was being dug so that it might water the crops in new fields. With more people came a need for a source of food year round, and Zaw had taken charge, collecting seeds and drawing up planting rotations. Seng Nu was helping to dig the channel, using her powers to scoop the earth from where it lay. But it was much more strenuous for her than simply plucking an apple or even uprooting a tree and she could not manage more than a few metres a day. Families had begun arriving too. The sounds of the camp became more lighter and liquid as the voices of women and children joined the gravel of the men. Not all the houses had been built yet, so the old rest station was turned into a dormitory for arriving women and their babies. While the older children were given a hut of their own for boys and girls, much to their delight. The camp was swelling and though it felt like it was bursting at the seams, it was content. Each new arrival was celebrated and the elephants too had begun to notice there were more people around. They had never seen human children before and the young elephants were happy to make new friends their age, even if the mothers on both sides were a little protective at first. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. /// The Gate of Winter had arrived. In previous years, celebrations at the camp had been mostly an excuse for the men to stuff themselves full of hot food and drink sky beer until the early hours of the morning. They would still ring open the gate at midnight, but this was mostly just an interruption in between the gluttony. With the families here, this year was different, and while the mood was no longer gluttonous, it was just as high spirited. Ribbons had been strung up from tree to tree and even some of the elephants were wearing sashes tied into oversized bows around their necks. There was music too, which had begun to inspire the night¡¯s first dancers, the young children who were jumping and spinning in instinctive joy. As the sun went down, long tables were placed in the open ground by the Big House for the feast. There were no arranged places, people sat where they pleased and many changed places after portions, not because they disliked their neighbours, but because they wanted to share the meal with as many people as possible. ¡°What are you thinking lad?¡± Seng Nu called across the table to Jakan who seemed to be lost in his own world. ¡°Don¡¯t you like my cooking?¡± added Zaw. ¡°You haven¡¯t touched the candied sweetpeas¡±. Jakan took a sweetpea and popped it in his mouth. ¡°It¡¯s delicious Zaw¡± he said without thinking. ¡°Do trees die like humans? I mean, if we didn¡¯t cut them down would they live forever or would they die of old age like us?¡± ¡°That is a question you are too young to be asking¡± said Dai. ¡°well what question should I be asking Uncle¡± ¡°How about if you swallow a melon seed will a melon grow in your stomach?¡± Said Seng Nu ¡°Don¡¯t be silly Seng Nu, that a question you are too old to ask¡± Dai leaned closer across the table to Jakan and spoke in a undertone, just loud enough for only the table to hear. At your age, Son, what you should be asking is should I give her apple or cherry blossom flowers to tie in her hair tonight?¡± Jakan frowned in confusion ¡°Who?¡± ¡°The girl, who happens to be my niece, sitting on the table next to us. She¡¯s been watching you for a long time and it¡¯s not your considered opinion on the sweetpeas she¡¯s interested in.¡± Jakan couldn¡¯t help but look directly over to the next table. The girl there looked away as he made eye contact with her. Then she looked back. xxx ¡°There¡¯s a lady at the gates.¡± Sut was looking at his feet as he spoke to Zaw. ¡°Well whose family is she? Why haven¡¯t you taken her to the women¡¯s hut? Find her some bedding?¡± Sut knew whose family she was, but he didn¡¯t want to be the first to say the name out loud. ¡°She wants to speak to you, Zaw.¡±