Helga: Out of Hedgelands, Rick Johnson [suggested reading txt] 📗

your ear like a clanging bell!” the Wood Cows said. But the High Ones did not like to hear such things.

To allow such thought would undo the entire order of things. All the highest and best gifts came from above, never from the lower realms. As Fropperdaft VIII considered the case of the rebellious Wood Cow, he saw that it was not just a single case of foolish rebellion that had to be addressed. The entire life and society of the Wood Cows was a threat to the Hedgelands. “Yes,” Fropperdaft said to himself as he contemplated what he would do, “this is not a problem of just one simpleton Wood Cow...the whole worthless lot of them are lazy, superstitious troublemakers.”

Respect for the trees prevented the Wood Cows from participating in community activities such as the annual Willow Bonfire that gave honor to the High One on his birthday. Nor did they participate in the ‘sacred climb’—believing it to be injustice in the service of tyranny. Their insistence on inviting the trees to work with them in making a table or chair meant that sometimes it took days for a Wood Cow carpenter to hear a response from a tree. This greatly slowed down any project they did. “Bah, Sharant!” Fropperdaft spat out the curse. “How dare they suggest that trees—the lowest of the low—have voices! They wish us to believe that trees can speak! Bah, Sharant! It will not be tolerated!”

The High One feared that Wood Cow ideas would ultimately lead to great trouble. “It is unthinkable! The only voice from the Unspeaking Realm is from the Mountain Tops. And the only voice from the Mountain Tops is that of the High One. It can be no other way.” The suggestion that the Wood Cows heard other voices from the Unspeaking Realm infuriated the High Ones throughout the long ages of the dynasty. As a result, the Hedgies regarded Wood Cows as evil troublemakers.

The age-old condemnation effectively made the Wood Cows social outcasts. Denied all rights to own property within Hedgeland towns, the Wood Cows went off by themselves to live in settlements around O’Fallon’s Bluff. There they engaged in woodcrafts in the traditional manner, earning a meager living—they could do nothing else. Ostracized and set apart, for long ages this had been sufficient to the High Ones’ purpose. Over the generations, myth and ignorance led to prejudices that turned the Hedgelanders more and more against the Wood Cows. They could neither buy, nor sell, goods at a fair price. Having no rights in Hedgeland society, the Wood Cows carried on their simple life virtually unseen and uncared about by the Hedgies.

But all this changed with the attack by the rebellious Wood Cow. They had always been accused of being troublemakers, but they had never actually created any trouble. The successful attack and escape of the rebel, however, changed that.

Thus, on that fateful Clear Water’s Day which had such significance for Helga’s story, the long-held prejudice against the Wood Cows brought an event that would forever change the history, not just of the Wood Cows, but also of the Hedgeland itself, and have grave implications for other creatures yet unknown to them.

The Wood Cows Expelled

On that day so fateful for Helga’s story, just before sunrise Messenger Jays set out from their post atop the Desperate Ridges. Each carried a proclamation scroll to be delivered to Keepers of the Light in the far-flung hamlets and villages of the Hedgelands. Bad Bone watched them scattering to the different directions as he prepared to return home. His preparations included exhorting the group of dispirited Worthies he had discovered behind the Llanhogger Inn. He had decided to lead them away from the Jay settlement. The rag-tag collection of creatures gathered around him, chattering excitedly. At last they were leaving the Jays.

As the cries of the departing Messenger Jays—“Ya! Ya! Ya!”—died away, Bad Bone gave one last look at the Jay settlement and, taking a deep breath, climbed over the ledge and began his descent. Calling instructions to those following him, within half an hour he guided the rest of his band over the edge as well.

Speeding swiftly to all corners of the Hedgelands, the Messenger Jays delivered the High One’s decree. In each and every Hedgie hamlet and village, the High One’s original proclamation was destroyed and replaced with the new message.

When Clear Water’s Day arrived, the High Seat in every hamlet and village crackled with an unusual, anxious energy. Each Hedgie had heard the rumors about the High One’s annual proclamation. In the light of the unprecedented rebellion, what would His Highness say?

A deep hush fell over Hedgies as the royal proclamation was read:

Greetings to thee, all!

The Hedge stands fast upon the dangers of beyond;

it opens not to the West; it opens not to the East;

it opens not to the South; it opens not to the North,

it opens not to any who would enter our land.

The Hedge opens only at the command

of the First One and the Last One;

it opens for him the foul-smelling Wood Cow;

it opens for her the lazy Wood Cow;

it opens for the Wood Cows who defy the High One,

who speaks for the First One and the Last One.

The High One, by whose wisdom

the good live and the unworthy die,

provides three First Touch Days

for the Wood Cows to leave our lands.

By the First One and the Last One,

who alone is without equal, I decree this shall be

a means of purifying our lands and people.

Death to anyone who aids the Wood Cows as they flee!

The Forever End was to be opened! The Wood Cows were expelled from the Hedgelands!

So far as anyone knew, no creature—except for the High One’s own favored traders—had been beyond the Hedge in over a thousand years. Even the rivers that flowed through the Hedgelands passed through gates that barred entry by any creature. Now there would be an opening made in the Hedge!

Helga and Breister, with the other Wood Cows, listened to the reading of the proclamation from a dark and dusty cellar of the High Seat where they sat on the floor. Symbolic of their place at the absolute bottom of the Hedgeland order, Wood Cows were not permitted to sit with the other Hedgies. Being confined to the cellar, however, with sound filtering down faintly through vents, had the benefit of allowing them to comment on the ridiculous things they heard.

“‘Death to anyone who aids the Wood Cows as they flee!’ the High One says,” Helga snorted. “Wood Cows would never run away from such a tyrant as the High One! We’re not cowards! We’ll obey this decree, as unjust and foolish as it is. But we obey without any idea of scurrying away in panic!”

“Aye, that’s our way,” her father agreed. “If we leave, we go peacefully with the will to make a new life in a new land. We go toward a new day. Let the High One and his ignorant kind hold to the old day, as they will. We go forward with our heads held high!”

 

Bad Bone Bound for Glory

The descent from the Desperate Ridges took Bad Bone longer than he expected. He arrived at his home village just as the festivities of Clear Water’s Day were drawing to a close. Conducting the group of furred creatures on the difficult route had been slow going. He was shocked to see how much the creatures he led had been degraded by their experience with the Jays. What had once been some of the foremost climbers and adventurers of the Hedgelands were now a bedraggled band of ‘scramblers and shriekers’ as Bad Bone saw them, scarcely able to move without fear.

He had to constantly shout encouragement to one or another that had suddenly frozen up with fright. “Come on, my stout hearts! There’s Salamander Nuggets and Squint Buns a-waiting! There’s dancin’ and hollerin’ in the streets! Frog’s Belch Ale for all if we make it back before Clear Water’s Day is over!” Little by little, the tiny band made its way down.

Leading the ragged band into the village square, Bad Bone did not expect much of a reception. For him, it was simply another mission completed successfully. But for the families of the furred creatures he had rescued, he was a hero.

Grateful families of the long-lost creatures flocked to meet the new arrivals. Joyful mothers, fathers, siblings and neighbors raised their tankards and mugs to celebrate the return of their loved ones. Surrounded by good company and as happy as could be, Bad Bone abandoned himself to enjoying the fun. Not sparing the Salamander Nuggets and Frog’s Belch Ale, he was especially touched when a wee little Lynx, happy to have her older brother returned, offered him her Squint Bun. Bad Bone was very happy.

The festivities went on and on, ever more raucous and spirited. One creature after another offered a toast to Bad Bone’s health in honor of a rescued loved-one. Frog’s Belch Ale flowed faster and faster. “Here’s to Bad Bone, liberator of my own dear Thudwit!” a Fox yelled, raising his mug high. “And here’s another for Smidtoker, my long-lost son!” an Otter cried. “Hurrah for Bad Bone!”

Wild singing broke out, with the entire crowd wailing half-tangled verses of a ballad they made up:

Ho-ho, have you heard the news, me Hedgie?

Bad Bone is bound for glory,

Ho-ho, hug him and rock him and bowl him over,

Bad Bone is bound for glory,

Ho-ho, one more day and the High One’s a-callin’

Bad Bone will be a glory story, glory story—

Bad Bone will be a glory story.

Completely lost in the frenzied celebration, Bad Bone was taken with the sloshing of ale, until something distracted his attention for a moment.

He glimpsed a familiar Wood Cow and her father passing down a side alley just to his left.

“Helga!” Bad Bone shouted after the old friend who had once made him his fine wooden longbow. “Helga! Wait!”

“Hush, old scout!” a Goat standing near Bad Bone muttered, emphasizing the comment with a sharp jab in Bad Bone’s ribs. “You don’t dare acknowledge the expelled ones.”

Until that moment, Bad Bone had not known the content of the proclamation scrolls he carried to the Messenger Jays for delivery. The High One’s decree was known only to the Keepers of the Light until it was made public on Clear Water’s Day. Bad Bone had not returned in time to hear it read.

“The Wood Cows expelled?” Bad Bone asked the Goat. “How can this be? What have they done? Surely the foolishness of one Wood Cow does not condemn the rest to suffer?”

“Old scout,” the Goat replied in a hoarse whisper, “you dare not raise such questions too loudly. It’s dangerous. Let it be good enough to be a hero for rescuing these beasts from the Jays. Let the rest of it be as it will!” The Goat’s harsh look made Bad Bone grow quiet.

The sudden feelings of shame and sorrow he felt were lost on the Goat and the rest of the happy revelers. Bad Bone, however, no longer joined in the joyful partying with the same gusto as before. His horror at having participated so significantly in a deep wrong against his old friend could not be easily shaken off. Feeling small and weak, as if his great strength was ebbing away, Bad Bone walked slowly away from the revelry, wanting to pour out his tears in private.

Last Night at O’Fallon’s Bluff

Swish-luckt...swish-luckt...The unmistakable footsteps on the stone walk outside her cottage made Helga