Pirin - Book II - Hairam the Queen

Chapter 7

Forecasting weather

CHAPTER VIII

Another time a man called Efuihèbin, who was a meteorologist, came to my palace. After being asked to tell me what troubled him, he replied:

“Lord Helewen, generous, wise monarch, it is more than a night since I have been unable to rest at all because of my worries. As you know, I share a house with a bride and a groom. Since the bride, Ghalan, loved us both, and as much me as Harham, in order to please her, I agreed to marry her husband as much as herself. Actually, it has been a while since things between me and Harham have been messy, soon to quarrel over trivial matters, and Ghalan blames me, supposing I am jealous of Harham. You should know, my excellent Sire, there is nothing more false than such a statement. I hold my groom in great esteem, and I am not troubled by the fact to have to share my beloved with him. The only thing that matters, to me, is Ghalan's happiness, and she says she is happy only with her two husbands. I accepted her choice, without questioning it, thereby making Harham my spouse and cohabitant as well. I would not have acted so, if I was jealous. No, believe me, Milord, my troubles with Harham are not caused by jealousy, but by an entirely different matter...”

“Speak, then. What sort of problem is it?” I incited him.

“As you know, Your Highness, my job is to forecast weather. In order to do so, every day, from my tower, I carefully observe the sky, trying to catch any sign from the landscape which may indicate whether we shall have rain, wind, a sunny weather, or fog, in the following days. Every day I consult the astrologers, turn the pages of the manuscripts bearing the many calculation tables, go to the temple to ask the priests whether the Gods anyhow made it known what dress should the sky wear. To sum up, I accomplish everything which is expected from a good meteorologist, so much so that I am rarely mistaken in my verdicts, although my job, be that as it may, is really a put off...”

“I know, master. Continue”.

“Well, magnificent King, you should know that my groom, Harham, is a climber who everyday, as long as the sky allows, scrambles up the steep slopes and rugged mountain-sides surrounding our Kingdom, defying the hardships of the rocky surface and the dangerous crevices, in order to pick the mountain flowers. Such flowers are then put into the wise hands of chemists and apothecaries who shall make them into powders, decoctions, and medicines, or to the cooks, who shall add them to their prelibacies. As you may realize from my words, my job is fundamental to my groom, who cannot leave home in search of rare floral essences, if bad weather is foreseen upon the heights. Therefore, each day, before leaving, my groom asks me: 'Efuihèbin, how shall the Immortals today decorate the sky? Are there going to be clouds, the daughters of Foladar and Hèadah, causing storms in their quarrels, lit by the lightning, son of Ghaladar the Bright, and the burst of thunder? Or shall the sky be clear, gladdened by the light that out of Halhaiad's right hand is spread in great quantity over the whole world?'

And I reply according to the signs I read each day”.

“I do not see any oddity in that, master Efuihèbin. Why, then, are you so afflicted?”

“Well, one day, unfortunately, it so happened that I told Harham he could be assured he may leave in all safety toward the mountains, since Halhaiad would generously pour Ghaladar's light over the world, when instead, oh my, a violent storm arose, nearly killing my groom. If we add to that the fact that, the day earlier, Harham and I had had a quarrel over some trivial matter, you shall realize, Milord, why my groom came to think I lied to him, giving him a false prediction on purpose, in order to get rid of him! And yet, Sire, that is not true, may the Gods bear me witness! My mistake was only due to an error I had made in the interpretation of the shape of the clouds. But never would I have sent Harham to his death on purpose! Nonetheless, even our bride, Ghalan, was convinced of my jealousy, and apparently there is nothing I can do to have her change her mind. Help, Your Highness, please! I put myself into your hands...”

After thinking about the difficult matter, I replied to Efuihèbin in such a fashion: “Good Efuihèbin, you shall do so: since every day your groom puts his life and art into your hands before leaving home, tomorrow you shall do the opposite. You shall ask him to be allowed to follow him in his climbing enterprise, thereby putting your own life into his hands in exchange. He shall soon see how even a small mistake might cost your life, therefore he shall be much more understanding in judging you than earlier. He shall even accept your apologies and forgive you. And so shall your bride act, since she finally sees you are in peace”.

A window facing the Great Temple

CHAPTER IX

I very well recall one day as the Council of Ministers was summoned in order to rule a very difficult case, concerning the city development plan.

Our law has it that each house in our realm must have at least a window facing the Great Temple of Ghaladar, each of these windows bearing the God's name in golden characters under the symbol of the Supreme God Inkahal. So it had been since the Fourth Age, and nobody ever thought of changing such a tradition.

Nonetheless, it so happened that, during the years I was occupying the throne, a woman named Xèijandhìm had come to the palace, asking to be allowed to shut the window in her house facing the temple. The request had startled the architects and city development ministers, who asked for the Council to meet in my presence in order to rule the matter.

As soon as the entirety of the experts had come and all of them were seated in their place, I asked for the matter to be properly explained to me, so that I could better understand the woman's request.

Thus Xèijandhìm spoke: “Sire Helewen, excellent sovereign, and all of you, honourable ministers in our realm, I would like to thank you for listening to me! As you know, I requested to be allowed to wall the window on the Northern side of my house, facing the great, high Temple of Ghaladar. I do not wish to conceal the reason motivating such a request...”

“Indeed, speak”, the city development minister invited her, “explain to us all what brings you before us to ask us to violate, in such an unusual fashion, the traditions of our Kingdom, since I suppose you must have some good reason!”

The woman resumed her speech: “Mine is a long story, which, nonetheless, is worthy the listening. My most revered people, you shall know that, as a child, I was curious and independent, often to fly from home into the woods, where I could run, climb upon trees, hide myself in the bushes, chase wild beasts, despite being a slim, fragile thing, whose body was thin as a blade of grass, almost transparent! I swear a gust of wind would suffice to bear me away. Nonetheless, the energy and will to move were never lacking to me. I ran, ran, and ran, I played innocently with whatever I could find, until one day I came upon an unforeseen occurrence. I saw a tiny Fairy caught in a chain of light tied to a twig, beside a little, clear waterfall, created by a stream flowing among the reeds and the moss-covered rocks, in the underwood. The tiny Fairy was like me, in a sense: transparent and thin, like an icy stalactite. She fluttered her little butterfly wings about, and as she was doing so, she poured a shiny dust all around, looking like diamond powder! I asked her who she might be, and she said she was the spirit of the well. She also said that I had found her in such a state because of her disobedience. In fact, whereas her parents had always recommended her not to get far from the stream course, out of spite she had been flying away from the waves, always chasing anything she saw. Unfortunately, with all that free flying about the woods, she had been caught in a trap! She ignored who might have put that chain of light there, but it was clear it must be somebody who had fun catching Fairies!

I offered to help her escape her hunter. I said I would hide in t

he bushes, waiting for the one who had set the trap to come back to check. Thereafter, I would follow him, waiting for the best time to free the tiny Fairy. Indeed, after a few hours, I saw the hunter come. He was a Genie, an old spirit of the place, who, looking pleased, picked up the Fairy tied to the little chain, looking little and powerless, and set his feet once more into the thick. Trying not to get noticed, I followed him, seeing him head toward a heap of huge boulders. The Genie halted for a while before the boulders, then recited the magical words: “Turn aside, old sleepers!” That is what he told the boulders, and they obeyed him. They turned aside, opening the way, which was again shut after he had come in. It was impossible for me to follow him since, after he had come through, the boulders heaped themselves once more one upon another, closing the passage. Then I cried, for I thought there was no hope for the little Fairy! I had no idea what might the Genie's mind be, but I was sure I would never see her again, and that would only be my fault, since I had not been able to free her. Instead, after a while, I heard the great rocks moving once more, as the Genie left his lair, disappearing into the woods. Therefore I took no time before running to the rocky wall, and repeating the words I had heard. “Turn aside, old sleepers!” And the boulders obeyed me. Therefore, trying to be confident, I stepped inside. Then I saw, to my utter amazement, the tiny Fairy was alive and sound. She came closer to me, smiling, and explained...”

“What did she explain?” I asked Xèijandhìm, who had got lost in her memories, forgetting to continue her narration. As though awoken from a dream, after returning to her senses, the woman resumed the tale.

“She explained to me how the Genie had brought her there to shelter her from the sun. In fact, some Nymphs of Streams are such fragile spirits they risk fading when exposed to excessive sunlight. That is the reason why many little streams get dry in summer. Because of the Nymphs who, as my Stream Fairy, moved by their natural vivacity and curiosity too often venture away from the water, thereby exposing themselves too much to sunshine. The Genie knew, instead, how Stream Nymphs need shadow and coolness. Their wings, similar to fins, are made to flutter over the cold waters, gurgling with a myriad little airy bubbles, where they can swim among fish, crayfish, riverweed, the smooth pebbles, tritons, and frog eggs. They are not made to take to the sky! There already are so many Nymphs of the Air! Cloud Nymphs, for example, or those who ride each gust of the breeze. Those are made for flying, and dancing in broad sunlight. But Stream Fairies are not. Those, as summer gets warmer and warmer, would better be off shepherding the currents of their streams in underground places. My tiny Fairy was young, though, and she had never heard such things. That was the reason why the Genie had caught her. Apparently, there was no other way to keep her from harming herself, and have her think about it, being so busy always having her way”.