2. East, to the Two Sisters

For Simon, the next few hours were a nightmare from which he kept trying hard to wake up.
After his arrest, he was handed over by General Morlok to a squad of stoats and weasels who (like the rabbit) were many times larger than Simon felt that they had any right to be.
‘Take him to Headquarters,’ the wolf told them. ‘I’ll deal with him tomorrow.’
The leader of the squad pulled a filthy rag from his pocket and blindfolded Simon. Then, with many a nip and scratch, the troop dragged and pushed their captive down the hillside below Salamander Cave and across several miles of rough country.
‘Where are you taking me?’ asked Simon, soon after they had set off; but he was answered with a blow to his face (which made his lip bleed) and told to keep quiet.
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ he was told, ‘and then you’ll wish you were back wherever it was you came from.’
From time to time, the soldiers talked among themselves. One in particular seemed unable to contain his delight at Simon’s capture.
‘No stopping us now,’ he said gleefully. ‘With Morlok running the show, we just can’t seem to set a foot wrong. Shalanor today, Galdania tomorrow, then who knows? Kyarm, lands across the sea, the whole bloomin’ world.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ said another member of the squad. ‘It won’t be as easy as all that. There’s bound to be some resistance there always is.’
‘Resistance?’ said the first soldier. ‘A few mangy badgers and squirrels telling us to “stop in the name of Elyon”? Call that resistance? Think back to the beginning. How long did it take us to clear Emeline and her lot out of Arwendal Keep, eh? Three days, that’s all! It was a bloomin’ walkover. And it didn’t take much longer to silence the objectors; not once we’d strung that centaur up for all to see!’
‘I’m still not sure that was such a good idea,’ said the second soldier. ‘Until then, the protestors were out in the open. Now they’ve gone to ground and they’re harder to find. There’ll be more trouble from them yet, mark my words.’
‘Rubbish,’ said the first soldier. ‘Soon everyone will be able to see that the General is good for Shalanor. Wait till we’ve got all the new roads and factories he’s promised; and decent little flats in tower blocks instead of smelly holes and caves; and a strong police force to keep the misfits in line; and prisons. Firm government is what’s been lacking. State control will bring some order to Shalanor, you see if it won’t.’
‘But not everybody wants that,’ said another voice. ‘There are plenty of Shalanorns who would like to keep things just the way they’ve always been.’
‘Then they’re mad,’ said the first soldier. ‘And there are ways of dealing with madness. They’ll have to be given treatment, won’t they? In the new mental hospitals.’ He chuckled unpleasantly. ‘I’m thinking of applying to work in one of them myself, actually if they’re ready by the time I’ve finished my stint in the army.’
Simon shuddered as he listened. Life was not going to be very pleasant in Shalanor if the General had his way.
The soldiers went on talking but Simon soon stopped listening to them. He found that keeping his balance without being able to see took all his concentration, and he longed for the march to end.
When eventually it did, his blindfold was re moved, his wrists were untied, and he found himself standing at the edge of a parade ground surrounded by large, concrete buildings. In front of him, set in the ground at intervals, were metal grills. The soldier in charge a weasel lifted one of these and, with a push, sent Simon tumbling into the darkness. He landed on a heap of straw.
‘Sleep well,’ said the weasel with a laugh. ‘’Cause you won’t get much chance tomorrow the General will see to that!’ Then he slammed the grill down and locked it in place.
Sleep well! Although Simon was desperately tired by his ordeal, he was too worried about Katy to be able to sleep. Was she still waiting for him back there in the cellar, or had she too found her way into Salamander Cave? If so, what had happened to her? Drimwort had said that the General and his troops were on the lookout not only for a ‘Son of Tellus’ but also for a ‘Daughter of Earth’ and that, presumably, meant a girl. Had Katy been captured too?
The questions teemed through his head but there were no answers.
Miserably, he sat up, sipped some water from the jug in the corner and tried not to think about what might happen next. Was he going to be tortured or even killed? He looked up through the grill high above his head and wondered what time it was. He could still see only darkness and a single tiny star, but he seemed to have been in the cell for hours and morning could surely not be far away. He listened to the steady tread of the guard, coming close then fading into the distance as, above ground, he patrolled the cells. Apart from that, and the sighing of the wind which had sprung up during the journey from Salamander Cave, all was silent.
Well, not quite all. There was another sound and he had only just become aware of it a sound of scratching and scraping. It was coming from behind the far wall of his cell and it was getting louder all the time. Simon got to his feet to investigate but, as he did so, the sound stopped and was replaced by the patter of falling earth; then a familiar voice came whispering through the darkness.
‘Simon, Son of Tellus,’ it said. ‘Are you there?’
‘Private Drimwort!’ exclaimed Simon.
‘Oh, thank goodness!’ The rabbit’s voice was shaky with relief. He moved swiftly to Simon’s side and took his hand. ‘Now listen, we haven’t got much time. The sun will soon be up and then — oh, mittens and muffs! — we’ll have half the army after us. If we’re going to escape, we must make a run for it now.’
‘Escape?’ said Simon. ‘I thought you were on the General’s side. Are you really going to get me out of here?’
‘I’m going to try,’ said Drimwort. ‘Though you must remember that I am only a rabbit I’m not really cut out for this sort of thing. But the fact is, I’m under arrest too. The General’s charged me with dereliction of duty and treason. He heard our entire conversation, you see — including all the bits about him being “the tyrant” and Emeline being “the crown” — and it didn’t please him, not one bit. Claimed my sympathies lay in the wrong direction. Said I would benefit from a little “re-education” which —’ Drimwort swallowed ‘— which he would “attend to personally”. Well, I’m not hanging around for that, I can tell you! I’d rather chance my paws at escaping. So, come on — Let’s be quick about it! Give me your jacket.’
Simon obeyed and Drimwort put it in the straw and scrabbled about for a few moments.
‘There,’ he said. ‘That should fool the patrol once day breaks. If he looks through the grating, he’ll think you’re still here. It might buy us a little time. Now follow me!’
‘Follow you where?’ asked Simon.
‘Through the burrow I’ve just made, of course,’ said Drimwort. ‘Oh, I know it won’t be to your liking; you’re the wrong shape for burrows. But, as burrows go, this one’s not too bad, though I do say it myself. Few poets could do better, anyhow. Now, no more talk. We must be off and may Elyon go with us! Come on, I’ll lead the way.’
‘Who is Elyon?’ asked Simon. ‘One of the soldiers mentioned him too.’ But Drimwort had already disappeared into the hole and Simon had no real choice but to scramble in after him. ‘It’s just as well,’ he thought, ‘that rabbits in Shalanor are bigger than rabbits in England.’ Then, as he pulled himself forward with his hands and pushed with his feet, he added, ‘It’s just a pity that they’re not ten times as big.’
Their progress was painfully slow. Twice, Simon became completely stuck and Drimwort had to dig him free. Soon he began to wish that he had stayed in his cell — especially when, just after he had decided that they must be nearing the end, Drimwort whispered that they were almost at the halfway point.
‘We’re coming to a fork,’ the rabbit said. ‘Keep to the left. The right-hand branch is where I tunnelled out of the guard room.’
Simon felt even more like giving up when, a little later, the roof of the burrow collapsed and filled his mouth and nose with earth. But eventually his hands met with nothing but air and he tumbled out onto a grassy knoll at the edge of a small wood. On the eastern horizon, above the hills, the sky was already turning pink and in the dim light of dawn he could see Drimwort peering anxiously about him.
‘So far, so good,’ the rabbit said, dusting the soil from his spectacles. ‘No sign of pursuit yet. But it’s only a matter of time. We must start immediately for the Hill of the Two Sisters. And may Elyon preserve us.’
‘That’s the second time you’ve mentioned Elyon,’ said Simon. ‘Who is he?’
‘Cabbages and cooking pots!’ said Drimwort. ‘Have you really never heard of Elyon? What sort of education do children get in your world? Elyon is — But, look, let’s get moving and I’ll tell you along the way.’
Drimwort set off at a brisk pace, striking south, and Simon was about to follow him when suddenly he let out a cry and stopped.
‘Drimwort, we can’t go to that hill you mentioned or not yet, anyway. We’ve got to go back to Salamander Cave.’
‘Salamander Cave?’ said Drimwort. ‘Are you mad? Morlok will have the place swarming with troops. They’ll be on the lookout for a Daughter of Earth. One will probably be arriving any time — now that you’re here.’
‘But that’s why we must go back,’ cried Simon. ‘One has arrived. She was with me — my sister, Katy. She was still in the cellar — the cave, that is — when I was captured!’
‘Oh, no!’ said Drimwort, growing pale. ‘Oh, dear me, no! This is bad news indeed.’ He removed his spectacles and chewed one of the ends while he took thought. Finally he came to a decision. ‘We must still go to the Two Sisters,’ he said. ‘There’s help for us there. If Katy’s already been captured, returning to Salamander Cave will achieve nothing. If she’s not been captured, she must have either got back to your world or escaped into Shalanor. And if she’s in Shalanor, the Two Sisters is the place to start looking for her.’
‘Why?’ asked Simon. ‘Who is there to help us at the Two Sisters?’
‘Aquila,’ said Drimwort. ‘Aquila, the eagle. He’s the leader of the Resistance. He’ll find Katy for us, if anyone can. Come! We must hurry.’
Without even waiting for Simon to agree, Drimwort started out swiftly, continuing to head southward. Simon did his best to keep up with him. In the east the sun rose, and the wide, grassy plain to their left was suddenly bathed in light. From their right, the hills swept around them in a half-circle.
‘In this direction lies Arwendal Keep and the sea,’ said Drimwort, pointing ahead to where the hills became lower, ‘but we need to be over there to the east. We could cut straight across the plain but I think we’re safer keeping to the shadows of these foothills. It’ll take us longer but we can’t risk being out in the open.’
They hurried on in silence for a while, then Simon asked a question which was puzzling him. ‘Drimwort?’ he said. ‘If you’ve been on the side of General Morlok until now, how do you know that Aquila is the leader of the Resistance — or that he’ll be at the Two Sisters when we get there?’
‘Who says I’ve ever been on General Morlok’s side?’ said Drimwort. ‘It’s true that I’ve worn his uniform but that’s not the same as being on his side. I was a conscript, you know; I never chose to join his army.’
‘No,’ said Simon. ‘But you were going to arrest me at Salamander Cave.’
‘Not at first,’ said Drimwort. ‘Not until I caught scent of General Morlok and realised he had crept up behind you in the darkness. The fact is, I’m for Elyon and Queen Emeline — always have been — and Aquila knows it. Many’s the piece of intelligence I’ve passed to him there, in the caves below the Two Sisters. It’s a contact point and Aquila will be there, sooner or later.’
‘You were going to tell me about Elyon,’ said Simon eagerly. It was strange, but every time the name was mentioned he tingled with the sort of excitement you feel when someone mentions Christmas or the summer holidays.
‘Elyon!’ said Drimwort. ‘Why, Elyon is the Son of Heseth, of course.’
‘And who is Heseth?’ asked Simon.
The question stopped Drimwort in his tracks. He turned and stared into Simon’s face, and what he saw there made him shake his head in disbelief. ‘Have you really never heard of Heseth?’ he said. ‘Never heard of the Eternal, the Almighty?’
‘Oh,’ said Simon, understanding suddenly dawning upon him. ‘You mean God.’
‘Is that what you call Heseth?’ said Drimwort. ‘I see. Well Elyon is his Son. No one has ever seen Heseth, of course; but Elyon has shown us what he is like.’
‘Is Elyon a man, then?’ asked Simon.
‘A man?’ said Drimwort, striding out again. ‘You mean a son of Tellus? Certainly not. How could he be? No — Elyon is a faun. And not just an ordinary faun, of course. He’s the Faun. The Piper of the Great Dance. The Night Slayer. The Light Bringer.’
‘Oh!’ said Simon, more confused than ever. ‘And he lives on the Hill of the Two Sisters?’
‘Mercy, no,’ said Drimwort. ‘Elyon lives in his own country — beyond the Gates of Dawn. He hasn’t been seen in Shalanor for 300 years. Not since he vanquished Kaldis, the Prince of Darkness, and set King Harold and Queen Maud on the throne at Arwendal Keep. They were Children of Tellus too, you know.’
‘What? Human beings like me?’ said Simon in astonishment.
‘So it is said,’ replied Drimwort. ‘And they reigned here for ten or so years before vanishing back into your world.’ He was silent for a while, then he began to talk about Elyon once more. ‘It was he who made Shalanor,’ he said, ‘and Galdania and Kyarm, and the Northern Peak and the Isles of Mist — indeed, the whole wide world.’ He paused, then softly chanted:

‘In deep and primal darkness,
Before the world was made,
Fair Elyon paced the rocky waste
And on his panpipes played.
He piped of sun and moon and stars
That, at his notes, shone bright.
He piped of grass and trees and flowers
That sprang into the light.
He piped of fish and beasts and birds
That swam and ran, took flight.

‘That’s beautiful,’ said Simon, guessing who the author must be.
‘Oh, do you really think so?’ said Drimwort, trying hard to look modest. ‘It’s one of mine, actually. Just something I knocked together in an idle moment. And I can’t say I’m entirely happy with the last line.’
‘I think it’s terrific,’ said Simon.
‘Well, it’s not bad,’ said Drimwort sounding pleased. ‘Not one of my best, but not bad. And it is true, you know. Elyon did make everything including us breathborns.’
‘What’s a breathborn?’ asked Simon.
‘A beast like me,’ said Drimwort. ‘One that can talk and think and reason. One that knows right from wrong and not only knows right from wrong but can choose between them. One that can recognise truth and beauty and suchlike.’ He was silent for a moment, then he went on. ‘It is said that, when Elyon had finished making the birds and beasts, he led all who were willing to follow him through the great river — the one we now call the Fleet — and breathed on them; and that, when he had breathed on them, they became different from the creatures who had stayed behind. Their size changed for a start. Some became larger and some smaller. But, more importantly, they all received the gifts I’ve mentioned — gifts of knowledge and thought and speech.’
‘Don’t all the beasts in Shalanor talk, then?’ asked Simon.
‘Certainly not,’ said Drimwort. ‘There are ordinary rabbits – much smaller than me — and breathborn rabbits; ordinary eagles and breathborn eagles; ordinary wolves and breathborn wolves.’ He glanced at Simon. ‘Even Morlok is a breathborn, you see. But he’s a breathborn who has gone wrong — by chosing evil rather than good.’
The valley was now behind them and they had begun to climb, keeping to gullies and whatever cover they could find. When they reached the brow of the first hill, Drimwort turned to face back down the way they had come.
‘Look,’ he said grimly.
In the distance, troops were pouring like ants from the garrison at Witton Heights. As Simon and Drimwort watched, the swarming mass thickened and swelled at the edge of the plain then, quite suddenly, thinned to a stream which poured southward.
‘They’ve picked up our trail,’ said Drimwort, ‘but at least they haven’t realised that we were going south only to get east. They’ve assumed we’re heading for Arwendal Keep. By the time they discover their mistake, we’ll be miles from here.’
‘Have we still far to go?’ asked Simon.
‘Far enough,’ said Drimwort. ‘We’re not home and dry yet — not by any means. We’ve stolen a good lead on them but they have by far the greater speed. Come on! We must just do the best we can.’
Without further delay, they turned and pressed on through the heather and gorse towards the remaining hills which stood between them and their destination. But, as the hours passed and the sun beat down on them ever more strongly from the cloudless sky, their pace began to slacken.
Finally Simon flopped to the ground, exhausted. ‘It’s no good,’ he gasped. ‘I’ve got to rest for a while.’
‘You can’t,’ said Drimwort anxiously. ‘They’ll be upon us soon, I’m sure of it. At least let’s try to make the next ridge. It’s not far. And then we can see where we stand. Come on! Please!’
He took Simon’s hand and, wearily, Simon allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The muscles in the back of his legs ached and his heels were so blistered that every step caused him fresh pain. But, eventually, with gritted teeth and many a word of encouragement from Drimwort, he reached the hilltop.
There, two sights met their eyes.
In front of them was a round, green hill topped with two standing stones — the Two Sisters — one large and one somewhat smaller. Behind them, swarming towards the foot of the hill which they had just scaled, were the stoats, dogs, weasels, lynx, foxes, cats, mink, boars, rats, wolves, polecats and other creatures which made up General Morlok’s army!
Suddenly the leading weasel caught sight of Simon and Drimwort standing against the sky and let out a screech of victory. In a moment, it had been taken up by the others and they rushed at the hillside, barking, baying, grunting, mewing, howling — all eager to seize their prey.
‘Run for it!’ cried Drimwort, his eyes wide with terror. Heedless of where he put his paws, he leaped down into the valley and Simon followed him. Tiredness, blisters, hunger, thirst — all were forgotten in their headlong rush for safety. And they might just have made it had not Simon’s foot caught in a root of heather and sent him sprawling on the ground, clutching in agony at his twisted ankle.