CHAPTER SIX.
WATER.THE FOURTH DREAM.
Click here for Chapters ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SEVEN.
Mr. Baxter was about to continue the story, when the words of a poem began to appear in the air.
To catch the feel of the flowing tide.
The surge of life in the sunlit sea.
To find the truth that is deep inside,
And open the core of a mystery.
This was the end of the poem, but the writing in the air continued.
The halls of the sea are wide and deep, wide and deep. From the ruby glow of the coral caves to the sparkling, icy grottoes of the North, from the darkest caverns of the deep abyss to the sun-bright glory of the rainbow surf, they are under King Neptune’s sway.
In his many undersea palaces with walls of coral and roofs of pearl he lives in great splendour, sitting, trident in hand, on a magnificent throne, and presiding over a court beyond compare. His exits and entrances are heralded by Tritons blowing on their conches. His councillors are grave merrows, in chamber or hall his sight is gladdened by mermaids, combing their sea-green hair, while beautiful nereids dance attendance on every side.
He is wealthy beyond imagination. He has mountains of flawless pearls, to rival the finest on Earth. He has ancient coffers brimming with gold and silver coins. He has treasure chests overflowing with diamonds, emeralds, amethysts, rubies and precious stones of every kind, the garnered spoil from a thousand sunken galleons
The extent of his realm beneath the waves is truly vast. There are mountains and volcanoes, there are rolling hills, there are broad, flat plains, there are forests of waving kelp, where great herds of sea-cows graze, there are oyster beds and plantations, there are spreading gardens of sea-anemones, whose delicate fronds are protected, tended and nipped in due season by a host of crabby gardeners, and this vast domain is teeming with sea-life of every kind, for his subjects are many and diverse, and their activities are as varied as their nature.
Dogfish chase catfish through the palace gardens, glamorous starfish pose and smile, pious monkfish make their devotions, and alone in simple dwellings on the peaks of undersea mountains, old hermit crabs dispense their wisdom to all who seek them out.
A little star, an asterisk, appeared by the word ‘out’, and looking down, they saw another asterisk just above their father’s head, and next to it a note that said,
“For example, if you need a loan, do not approach the sharks.” When Judy asked her father what that meant, he said, “I’ll explain it later.”
The writing continued.
On the sea-bed an army of plodding lobsters clears away unwanted debris and maintains a level of order, while Silver Swordfish weave their intricate formations, rising, descending, twisting, turning, dividing and recombining throughout the full expanse of the crystal deep, their joyful underwater ballet bringing peace and harmony to the Seven Seas.
Above them dolphins and porpoises leap and tumble, sea-horses toss their white manes in the swirling foam and leviathans spout on the far horizon, while a kindly yellow sun beams down, and from the four corners of the Earth gentle Zephyrs puff their cheeks, refreshing the face of the waters and raising up dainty, white curlicues of waves.
This, then, is the realm of King Neptune, where since the very beginning of things his subjects have lived together in harmony, all happily acknowledging his benevolent rule.
But all is not well. Far, far below, in the deepest , darkest, foulest cavern of the nethermost abyss, mired in malevolence, enrapt in his fell designs, the King of the Octopi is mustering his minions. Sea-slugs and scorpions, bloodsuckers, parasites, cestodes and nematodes, sea-lice and green acid-eels, creatures that crawl and hide and wriggle in slime, creatures that shun all brightness and hate all truth, creatures of inner darkness, with venomous natures and vicious intent, he is sending them all.
Undulating, insinuating, drifting and penetrating, maliciously, silently, slowly, they are spreading unseen, and they are all imbued with his evil power.
They undermine joy and delight. They bring in hatred and discontent. They usher in clouds and storms, and sow dissension under the waves. They turn gentle breezes into roaring gales. They turn shining spray into a stinging whiplash of pain, and there is nothing immune from their insidious malice and spite. The warmest, kindest sunshine is diffused through a gloomy haze, and they tarnish the magic silver of the moon. The effect of their presence is increasing hour by hour.
Here the writing stopped.
“Golly,” said Judy. “That was like a sort of picture in words, wasn’t it?”
“What about a real picture?” said Mr. Baxter.
“Yes please,” said Tom and Judy together.
The picture that appeared showed a woman with long, blonde hair. Although she was smiling, her face looked rather spiteful, and – she seemed to be underwater.”
“If that’s a mermaid, she ought to have a fish’s tail,” said Tom.
“It’s not a mermaid,” said his father. “It’s a siren.” Then he added, “Well, let’s get on with the dream.
Knobby found that he had become a swordfish, and he seemed to know without being told – you know the way things sometimes are in dreams – that he was one of a team that was going to present an underwater dance. It was called the Dance of Harmony, and it was part of a competition that had been organised by King Neptune. The king was very worried about the evil plans of the King of the Octopi, and he had offered a prize to any of his subjects who could find a way to purify the ocean.
The competition was to take place on and above the sand not far from the central palace. King Neptune was seated on a simple throne, with his councillors close by. All his courtiers were lined up on either side, including a number of beautiful mermaids, (some of them in charge of squalling water babies). His lesser subjects, not only respectable fish, but also crabs, lobsters, mussels, oysters, whelks and other types of shellfish, were also there in large numbers, waiting for the competition to begin.
It began in a very solemn style. A shoal of monkfish sang a pelagic mystery chant in their deep, bass voices. It was rich in meaning, but almost all on two notes, with a third added on at the very end.
They were followed by thirteen spider-crabs, who began by marking a number of shapes on the sand. There were spirals, circles, triangles and squares, all connected together in a very ancient design. Then over, around and through this figure, they did a complicated series of steps, which they said would purify the ocean.
After that came the entry that most of those present had been waiting for. Three Mega-Starfish, famous throughout the Seven Seas and even beyond, sang a number of underwater songs. These were all well received, but the most popular of all was the final song, the Ocean Lullaby. It had many verses, and was sung to a beautiful, haunting tune that brought sighs of pleasure from the listeners. The final verse summed up the mood of it.
Mighty breakers cease your roar.
Just calm down and break no more.
Little wavelets go to sleep,
And so the world in safety keep.
When the last notes drew to a close, there was a storm of applause. Some of the courtiers clapped or slapped their tails, fish waved their fins, jellyfish pulsed with delight, water babies, who had no idea what it was all about, just smiled at the general pleasure, and the king himself nearly floated off his throne. Even the Portuguese men-o-war, (that’s a kind of jellyfish), though annoyed at having to leave their weapons behind, had enjoyed the song. Perhaps the whole event had more to do with the fame of the Mega-Starfish than the harmony of the seas, but it had been a splendid performance.
The entry that followed, which took place on a small patch of sand in front of the throne, was not so impressive. Twenty-four lobsters danced a quadrille, which was so slow and went on so long that most of King Neptune’s court, not to mention the rest of the audience, began to get sleepy.
The lobsters then gave a demonstration of how to make the sea-bed, which was mostly done by rearranging pieces of seaweed. As their leader carefully explained, “When the sea-bed is tidy, the rest of the ocean becomes tidy too.”
At the end of this performance King Neptune said, “We extend our royal gratitude to all in the lobster team,” and then in a tone which some might have thought showed a certain relief, “and now for the final entry.”
This was the swordfish dance. The team was known as the Silver Swordfish because of their shining, silvery colour. As Knobby swam up to the starting point directly above the court, he was sure he knew what to do, although he still felt slightly nervous in case he forgot some detail, or his mind went blank for some reason. He need not have worried. As soon as the dance began, each movement followed easily from the one before. There were twelve Silver Swordfish in the team, and the dance was in three parts.
It began with a steady circular movement, a level rotation. Then, turning suddenly inwards, they all shot towards the centre. At the last moment they twisted upwards or downwards, so that instead of spiking each other, they clashed their blades together in a pattern of crossed swords. Then twisting round, they all swam rapidly out again, making fierce stabbing movements. This was repeated several times.
The second part of the dance was smooth and gentle in nature, with continuous, flowing movements. The group rose, fell, expanded, contracted and rotated, all in a natural, satisfying way. The feeling was light and free and open.
The final part was joyful, leaping, twisting and turning, shooting into the air in a cloud of silver spray, and diving back down with a trailing wake of bubbles.
When the dance came to an end Knobby was filled with a sense of gladness and a strange feeling of having gained some kind of victory.
Then, grouped together on the sand with the other contestants, they waited for King Neptune to announce the results. The king spent some time talking earnestly with a group of senior councillors. Then he spoke, bubbling slightly as he did so.
“First of all,” he said, “we should like to extend our royal gratitude to all those who offered their contributions. We appreciated them all. The chanting was deeply effective. The spider-crabs’ steps were impressive in their power. We all greatly enjoyed the singing, and of course we will always appreciate the splendid qualities of our friends the lobsters.
However, the final entry was in a class of its own. The new Dance of Harmony was astonishing in its range and breadth and quality. It also has the advantage that there are many more swordfish who can perform this dance, which is not true of some of the other entries. Therefore,” he concluded with a kindly smile at the assembled contestants, “it is now our royal pleasure that the Silver Swordfish should approach us more closely.”
The twelve Silver Swordfish moved forward to form a tight group around the throne.
“We desire to know,” said the king more quietly, “the amount of time that would be required to instruct perhaps ten other groups of swordfish to perform this remarkable dance.”
The leader of the group was about to reply, when there was a commotion overhead, a disturbance of the waters, and they saw what appeared to be a group of nereids approaching. It soon became clear that they were not nereids but sirens, and they seemed to be in a state of great anxiety.
“Wait!” they were calling. “Wait! Wait! Wait!”
The Silver Swordfish moved aside to allow the sirens, six in all, to approach the throne.
King Neptune was annoyed. “We should appreciate,” he rumbled, “an adequate explanation for this rude interruption. If this is another entry, the competition is over.”
The sirens simply smiled in a way that was obviously false and insincere. They were quite unlike mermaids, who had fishtails and glistening, sea-green hair. They were more like nereids in appearance, except that the nereids were dark, and the sirens had long, golden hair. They also had shifty, untrustworthy-looking faces, and a manner that was altogether too flattering and sweet.
One of them spoke. “Oh mighty and illustrious monarch, eternal and gracious protector of this great and glorious realm – ”
“Indeed,” said King Neptune with a hint of impatience, “It is our royal pleasure that you should proceed from adulation to information. In other words, what do you want?”
The artificial smiles flashed out again.
“Incomparable potentate,” said one, the one who had already spoken.
“Bright beacon of wisdom,” said a second.
“Fount of all justice and truth,” said a third.
Then all six together in chorus.
“We have come to pacify the ocean. We have come to purify your realm.”
King Neptune, although he knew all about the sirens and their ways, appeared to be taking a certain amount of interest.
“What can you do?” he asked.
“Almighty king,” they said, “we would like to give your Gracious Majesty a demonstration.”
The demonstration was not beneath the sea. It took place in a little bay, with steep cliffs rising up on three sides, and snow-white breakers foaming on to the sand. The king’s throne was set up close to the waterline, with his courtiers gathered on either side. His other subjects, those who were able to leave the sea-bed, were on the sand or in partly sheltered water between the rocks.
In the centre of the bay a large, smooth rock rose clear of the water, and here all the sirens sat and began to sing. They sang slowly in sugary-sweet voices. At times the song sounded almost like sobbing. At others it was gentle and coaxing. Yet it was certainly effective. After one verse the wind, which had been gusty, began to die down. After two verses the waves were distinctly smaller. After three verses the grey clouds began to part, and the sun beamed through. By the end of the song the entire scene was totally transformed. It was a glorious, sunny day with not a cloud in the sky.
The water was calm, like a sheet of glass, and crystal clear. There was not a breath of wind. There was also an overall feeling of friendship and good-will.
King Neptune was beaming with pleasure. His decision was not in the slightest doubt. The sirens had won the contest. Delightedly he promised them full support. He would tell all his subjects, he said, to give them every assistance wherever they went. The sirens assured him that there were many other sirens who could sing the same song with exactly the same results. So, on this hopeful note, the competition came to an end.
Some time had passed. Since their triumphant demonstration in the bay the sirens were everywhere, not just the original six, but many others. They were high in the royal favour, and they made the most of this. They were always extremely polite and flattering to the king, but they were quite the opposite to his subjects. They were scornful of the monkfish and spider-crabs, and they were beastly to the careful, hard-working lobsters, frequently amusing themselves by deliberately ruining their work. They also laughed at the Silver Swordfish when they practised their Dance of Harmony.
King Neptune had lost all interest in this dance and no longer agreed to give any support in the matter of teaching it to other swordfish, or fish of any kind. Meanwhile the sirens continued to sing their songs.
The strange thing was that they did not seem to be making any real progress. Although their songs always improved the weather, this only lasted a very short time, and the weather quickly became worse than it had been before. The same thing happened with feelings. At first the songs left the listeners with a feeling of happiness, but this very soon changed to boredom, suspicion, anger and a strange sense of heaviness
The sirens refused to discuss their activities at all, except with King Neptune. They told him that although the first improvements disappeared in a very short time, they would soon become more long-lasting. The process might feel unpleasant, they said, but this was necessary, and they assured him that their methods would succeed in the end.
King Neptune believed them.
The Silver Swordfish continued to practise the Dance of Harmony, although they felt there was not much point in it, now the king had lost all interest.
Knobby kept on thinking about the sirens’ demonstration, and grew more and more uneasy in his mind. He had been impressed at the time. They all had. But as he thought about it more carefully, he began to feel that there was something very false
about the sirens’ songs. It was not just the sentimentality, the sugary sweetness. It was more the feeling of something that looked fine on the outside, but was totally empty inside. It was a feeling of flatness, of something not really being there, like eating delicious food in a dream. Yet for a short time the songs were successful, very successful. He decided he would like to hear another song, this time when the sirens thought they were alone.
King Neptune had a Chariot of State. It was superbly made, constructed from countless cockle shells, royally decorated, and covered all over with magnificent, glowing pearls. When he made his Royal Progressions around the Seven Seas, the chariot, lightly riding the waves behind the splendid team of prancing, pure-white sea-horses, was always accompanied by two lines of cavorting Golden Dolphins, six on the left and six on the right.
Knobby decided to talk to one of them. He was known as The Captain, and was the head of the team, always swimming in first position in the right hand line. He was like a picture of a dolphin on some ancient shield or coat of arms, being covered in shining, golden scales, with a golden crown on his head, and a splendid, spreading tail. He too was not happy about the way things were going, and listened with keen attention.
“I would like to see these sirens at their work when they think that no one is watching,” said Knobby. “I have a feeling they did not show us everything at the demonstration.”
“I will come with you,” said The Captain. “Then if you discover anything you will have a witness. I am still on good terms with the king, sirens or no sirens, and I think he will listen to what I say.”
So it was that the two of them, depressed and gloomy, but clinging to the hope that things might still turn out for the best, set off on their apparently hopeless journey.
Some time later, after following a group of sirens without being seen, they found themselves close to a rocky coastline, where low cliffs were constantly pounded by heavy seas. In one place the sheer power of the waves had smashed right through the lower part of the cliff, while leaving the upper part still in place, so making an opening in the form of an arch. As each wave broke, a great mass of water came pouring through this arch in boiling confusion, to spread out over the inlet beyond. Then as the wave drew back, it poured out again with almost equal fury. The force of the waves had carved out caves and hollows below the surface, which echoed and boomed in heavy seas, while great plumes of spray were thrown up high in the air. It was a fearsome place
But as Knobby and The Captain watched, the fury began to die away. The group of sirens was sitting at the top of the arch and singing. As they sang, each inrush of water that poured through below them was smaller and quieter than the one before. In the end the waves died down completely. The water no longer surged in and out, and as before there was not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind, and the sea was clear and glassy calm. The siren song continued, but the sirens now separated into two groups, and moved to either side of the arch. Finally the song came to an end, but unlike the song in the first demonstration, it did not end on a note of gentle sweetness. It ended with a horrible, angry, ear-splitting scream. And with that scream, so completely different from what had gone before, the effects of the song were instantly reversed.
A cold, bleak wind sprang up, black clouds covered the sky, and enormous waves once more came crashing through the opening in the cliff-face. Then as they watched, the top of the arch, where the sirens had been sitting, began to crumble, until, with a thunderous roar, it collapsed, and in a great mass of broken rocks and boulders, fell into the raging water beneath.
“You were right,” cried The Captain. “You were absolutely right. In that first demonstration we only heard half the song. When King Neptune learns about this he will certainly change his opinion.”
In his excitement The Captain rose up well clear of the waves, and was seen by the sirens. Instantly their faces twisted up with rage, and they screamed insults and curses at The Captain and Knobby, vicious, horrible curses never heard on the land. Then, still screaming, their long hair flying in all directions, all trace of beauty and glamour gone, they leapt into the churning sea and disappeared from view.
“Well,” said The Captain, “they have condemned themselves. Their song was false, and what seemed to be benefits were a deception, like the water draining away from a beach before it returns as a tidal wave. They were probably working for the King of the Octopi. After this I scarcely need to speak to King Neptune, but I think I had better see him all the same.”
The Captain set off alone. The world of King Neptune and his courtiers, the mermaids, the swordfish and their dance, and the sirens with their treacherous songs – the whole underwater world – was fading away and becoming a memory as Knobby awoke from his fourth and final dream.
And that’s it for tonight,” said Mr. Baxter. “Sweet dreams, the pair of you. You should be upstairs by now.”
“So Knobby has had four dreams,” said Judy as they were leaving. “Will he go back to the camp now?”
“Well,” said her Dad, “you’ll find that out tomorrow.”
When he continued the story the following evening, it was clear that the time for dreams was past.
“Once more,” he said, “Knobby found himself in the serpent’s cave.
“Unicorn,” said the serpent, “you have been in the cave a long time. You have faced the obstacles, passed the tests, learnt the lessons, and received the gifts of four different dreams. Your preparation is now complete. It is not in my power to offer more. You must find your own path. But if you can make full use of all the lessons you have learnt and the qualities you have received, and if you can bring to your task each one when it is needed, then your path may lead to greatness.”
“Thank you,” said Knobby.
There was no reply. The swaying head turned sideways and sank down on the piled-up coils. The enormous eyes had no lids, but their light grew rapidly dimmer, and then was gone.
Slowly and hesitantly in the darkness, Knobby began to walk through the tunnel and out of the heart of the mountain.
He did not remember much about the journey, but when he finally arrived at the camp it was getting dark. He had no plan in his mind, not even a rough idea of what he meant to do. He simply knew that he wanted to find Gracinda. What happened after that would depend on where he found her – and when. He did not even know if she was still a palace filly.
His first thought was to go to the gap in the fence where he had left the camp. He approached it cautiously, and he could see from a distance, without leaving the shelter of the trees, that the gap had been repaired.
After that he moved carefully round, always keeping to cover. There was little sign of activity outside the camp, and he saw no Warlocks. Before long he found himself opposite the main gate of the camp, which was normally opened several times a day to allow carts and other vehicles to pass. It was closely guarded, and he could think of no way of getting in without being seen. Then he realised that not far from this gate, on the right hand side of it, was a steep rock-face, and at the top of this he could see the roof and part of the wall of the Grand Warlock’s palace. Perhaps there was another entrance, he thought. Carefully and quietly, through the rapidly increasing darkness, Knobby moved closer. There was a good deal of growth along the base of the cliff, rough grass and bushes and a few small trees. He could see no door of any kind in the smooth rock wall, and there seemed to be no pathway or track between the base of the wall and the small road that ran along beside it. Then he saw a door. It was partly hidden by a tree growing beside the road, but it was just visible in the face of the cliff. He could see no frame and no details, such as panels or a handle. There was just the faint shape of a door, which was hard to see because it was the same colour as the rock on either side.
Knobby came slowly closer. Then he waited for what seemed a very long time. The darkness descended completely, and he could no longer see the wall of rock or even the shapes of the trees. There was just a faint glow of light from the main gateway some distance off to the left.
Then suddenly the door was opened, and the darkness was pierced by a beam of light. It seemed bright at first in the pitch black of the night, but he soon realised that it was really quite a dim light from somewhere inside the wall. As he watched he saw the dark shapes of two unicorns coming through the door. They seemed to be carrying something, boxes or containers of some kind. They made their way along the base of the cliff, and there was the sound of something being tipped out on to a heap. Then they returned and went back in through the door. While this was happening Knobby silently moved in closer until he was standing in shadow just a few paces from the door. In a short time the two unicorns appeared again. He could now see that, unlike palace fillies, they were docked, and they seemed to be quite old. They both had trays of some sort attached to their stumps, and these were loaded with various objects, which appeared to be bones or possibly scraps of food. As they came out through the door and made off with their loads, Knobby quickly and quietly went in.
At first he could not see much. He stood there, not moving a muscle for fear of attracting attention, while the two unicorns passed close by, going out to the heap twice more. Then they came back in and pushed the door shut behind them. By this time Knobby could see that he was in some kind of store-room. There were piles of boxes and other objects all around, and he was standing in a small, clear space in the centre. There was a flight of steps on one side, and the light was burning at the top of this. The two unicorns went up the steps and must have picked up the light, for it quickly grew fainter and disappeared.
Knobby was once again in the dark, not just because he could see nothing, but also because he had no idea what to do next. Then he remembered the encouraging words of the serpent. He carried with him, in body and mind, everything that he had gained from his dreams. He felt sure that during his time in the cave he had grown in size, in strength, in endurance, in dash and speed and determination, in sharpness and understanding, and thanks to the fourth dream, which he was fortunate not to have missed, in sensitivity and the deepest kind of wisdom.
He had no idea what would happen if he was seen. Perhaps, with his undocked horn, he could pass as a palace filly. The thought aroused grim memories of Banseth and his scornful comments on that fateful docking day. At the same time it brought a strong feeling of warmth and hope. He felt that Gracinda was close at hand. Slowly and silently, but boldly, filled with a kind of joyful determination, he began to move forward in the dark.
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