Tang of Traskia

Once upon a time, for this is a fairy tale, and that is how all fairy tales begin, there was a king who ruled over the city of Traskia. But this story is not about the king, but rather about a young man called Tang, who was as far from being a king as anyone could imagine.

The sun was setting as Tang set up his camp for the night. He set his pack down beside the knarred oak. The tree had an inviting hollow at the base which was just right for his small body to curl into. He would sleep comfortably tonight, something that he often couldn’t take for granted. But first he needed to something warm in his stomach, so he set about gathering twigs and small branches to set up his cooking fire. Luckily it had not rained for a few days, so the kindling was dry and caught easily when he stuck his firestone. He set his small cooking pot over the fire, filled it with water from the stream he had discovered earlier, and started to prepare a stew from the meagre ingredients he had gathered – berries, some mushrooms, grana bark which would give the stew a tangy bitter flavour, but one he had grown accustomed to over the years.

The wind picked up, swirling the leaves on the ground around him and singing a mournful song in the branches above. He settled down into the hollow and ate slowly. From this vantage point he had a good view of the valley spread out before him. In the distance, the fires from Traskia slowly winked into existence. When he observed it objectively, the sight was beautiful. He considered for a while how it must be to actually live there, to see the welcoming lights getting nearer, the anticipation of warmth and family. He shook his head, reprimanding himself for thinking so fancifully. He was hatha, an outcast, at best pitied, at worst shunned and ignored.

It wasn’t always so. He had had family, a mother who loved him, an older brother who teased him but ultimately also cared deeply about him, and younger sister whom he cherished dearly. But he was also always aware from an early age of people who looked at him strangely, who crossed the street instead of passing him by. Later, as it became obvious what he was, he knew he could no longer stay. He didn’t want to bring shame on his family, so he had crept away one night, out into the dark and hostile forest, never again to return to his village.

He cursed his sentimentality as he warmed his gnarled hands on the still warm pot. He was better off how he was, he didn’t need anyone else. He ignored the small voice which yearned for light and companionship, and settled down for the night, taking his threadbare blanket out of his backpack and setting it around his shoulders. The night was cool, so he put some more branches on the fire. They would see his fire from the town, of course, there wasn’t any avoiding that, but the townspeople would leave him alone, they wouldn’t make the effort so seek out the source of a single campfire.

***

He awoke to the sound of voices not far off. It was still nighttime, the moon had set some time ago, so he pushed himself deeper into the tree and looked around carefully. He saw torches now, and they were coming his way. He thanked the stars his fire had gone out earlier. As quietly as he could, he shouldered his backpack and crept deeper into the undergrowth. The voices were nearer now, four maybe five men. And not just any men, these were the king’s own footmen. What the hell were they doing here in the dead of night? They were following the track he himself had used earlier, swinging their torches to the left and right. He praised his own presence of mind that he had chosen a campsite away from the track and deeper into the forest. He pushed himself deeper into the undergrowth, flattening his diminutive form low against the foliage. He knew what would happen to him if they found him. He had heard rumours of the king’s mines deep underneath Traskia, and of course he believed them.

The voices and the lights faded, and Tang breathed a sigh of relief. It was stupid of him to come this close to the capitol of course, but somehow he always had to come back, drawn like a moth to a flame by the dream of companionship, of a comfortable chair by a fireside and a tankard of ale in his hand. He waited another few minutes until he was certain the men weren’t coming back, then he pushed himself up from the undergrowth and brushed himself off. What on earth were those footmen doing in this part of the forest? Had a prisoner escaped? He’d best be moving on, and this time he wouldn’t take the trail, he would stay deeper in the forest, where there was less chance of being surprised. He would move around the rim of the valley, keeping the lights of Traskia in his sight as orientation as it was still several hours till dawn.

***

At first he thought it was his imagination, the wind playing tricks with his mind. It had picked up more, and now it was blowing a gale, bending the trees wildly, howling a ghostly lament in the treetops. But no, perhaps he hadn’t imagined it – there it was again. He stood still, trying to ignore the sound of the wind for that other small sound he was now sure he had heard. And now it came to him distinctly, a faint voice crying against the gale. It was hard to ascertain the direction it came from, but it seemed to be coming from somewhere to his left. He moved cautiously, stopping every few meters to listen for the sound. He heard it again, this time louder, so he was sure that he was going in the right direction. Why was he following this voice? Surely it would be better for him to ignore this and go his own way, keep himself safe? But something drew him on, perhaps it was the plaintive distress of another human and a desire to comfort that voice which led him on.

He was close now, he was sure of it, and there was no mistaking the cry for help. With a lurch he suddenly found his feet slipping out from under him, and he grabbed wildly for a tree trunk to stop him from tumbling down the steep slope that had opened up before him. He cried out in surprise, and as he did so a voice cried up to him:

“Who’s there? Please, help me!”

Tang peered down into the darkness. It was a girl’s voice, it sounded quite young, and certainly scared. He called down to her:

“My name’s Tang! Don’t be afraid, I’ll try and help.”

“Please Tang, don’t leave me here, I’m so afraid!”

Tang debated whether or not to remove his rucksack. It would easier to climb down without it, of course, but he might need its contents when he was down there. He decided to keep it on, calling down to the girl that he was coming to her, before slowly inching his way down, his body pressed against the steep slope, his hands and feet feeling for roots and branches to stop himself tumbling down. He prayed that he would find an easier way out of here when light returned. The gale had reached a fever pitch now, the howling of the wind and the groaning of the trees so loud that it seemed to Tang that he was descending into the jaws of Hell itself.

He finally felt the slope become less steep, and he was able to stand. He called out to the girl once more to determine her location, then carefully made his way in her direction. When he found her, he reached out to comfort her, and heard the girl cry out in astonishment. But not fear, and that encouraged him to sit down beside her. He pulled out the blanket from his backpack and placed it carefully around her shoulders.

“Who are you? Are you hurt? What are you doing down here?”. He fired the questions in quick succession, then, realizing his voice must have sounded harsh, fell silent and waited for the girl to answer.

“My name is Tara”, the girl replied after a short silence. “I live in the city with my family. I left to go to the village of Dizar, I have a cousin there. I was walking in the forest when I lost my way. I didn’t see this slope, and now my leg hurts so badly, I’m not sure I can stand on it. I called and called, but the wind is so loud, I had almost given up hope of anyone finding me.”

The girl fell silent again, and Tang regarded her thoughtfully. Dizar was ten leagues away, hardly a journey one would undertake before nightfall, and one would usually take the paths, rather than walk through the deep forest. And on a night like this too! Instead of questioning this, he simply said:

“You’d better get some rest. You’re safe for now, and I’ll have a look at that leg in the morning. I can’t do anything before daybreak.”

The girl seemed to acknowledge the wisdom of this, pulling the small blanket tighter around her and resting her head against Tang’s shoulder. Hesitantly, Tang put his arm around the girl and pulled her closer. She didn’t resist, and soon he heard the gentle and regular sound of her breathing against the wild frenzy of the gale. He lay awake a while, thinking. This was something he never thought he would experience again, a companionship and a closeness to another human being. The girl reminded him of his younger sister, of the times he had often comforted her when she had fallen down, or when she had woken in the night from a bad dream and had come to him for reassurance. Was this what he was secretly yearning for? Why he always drawn to the towns even though he was an outcast? Still, it would probably be different in the morning. The girl would wake and be afraid of him. And then? He couldn’t just leave her, she needed help. These thoughts swirled through his mind, until the incessant howling of the wind and the gentle breathing of the girl drew him into a fitful slumber.

***

Tang awoke at daybreak. The girl was still sleeping, so he gently eased himself away from her and stretched to shake off the uncomfortable position in which he had slept. The girl was younger than he had thought, possibly twelve or thirteen, but of course already a good head taller than him. She was pretty, with fair skin and smooth hands, and long red hair tied back in a plait. She was wearing a simple travelling cloak and rough clothes. What on earth was she doing out here on her own?

The girl awoke and met is gaze without flinching. “Thank you, Tang” she said simply, and he nodded. He gave her some food from his backpack, before setting about looking at her leg. It didn’t look broken, thank goodness, but she might well have twisted her ankle and it would be painful to walk. Still, they would have to try. He would find her a stick to lean on, and he could prop her up on the other side, and perhaps they would make progress. They would have to stick to the trail, of course, and take the direct route down into the valley. And then? Tang didn’t really want to enter the city itself, but what choice was there? He would figure out something when they had got that far, first they had to get out of this ditch.

That proved easier than he would have thought, as they appeared to be in an old dried up riverbed. By walking along the bottom of the riverbed, they eventually came to a place which was shallow enough that they could climb out without too much difficulty. They walked till they reached the crest of a small hill, when Traskia itself came into view. From here it would be easy enough to find one of the trails leading down into the valley, and after a short while they came across one which Tang was sure would lead in the right direction.

Progress was easier now, but it was still slow going, the girl resting her weight on his shoulders, and using the branch he had found to stabilize herself with the other hand. The girl said little on the journey and he fell to wondering how he was going to get her back to her family. The storm of last night had abated, but the wind was still blowing strongly. Above the sound of the wind he now heard a different sound, one that clenched his heart with fear. The steady thud of horse hooves, and by the sound of it they were on the path behind them, approaching fast. He could almost sense the steam of the horses’ breath on his back, feel the pounding of their hooves in his bones. Before he had time to react, they were upon him. The last thing he heard was the cry of the girl, before his world exploded into darkness.

***

When he awoke, it was again dark. His head pounded – someone had obviously hit him very hard on the back of the head – and he had trouble focusing on where he was. As his vision cleared, it appeared he was in a small dark room, the only light filtering down from a tiny window high above. A heavy wooden door with a small window at the top told him all he needed to know – he was in a prison cell. He was free to move around, they hadn’t bothered to chain him up, so obviously he wasn’t a very important prisoner, for which Tang was grateful. But why had they brought him here at all? Why hadn’t they taken him to the mines directly?

He cursed his own carelessness and stupidity. What had he been thinking, helping that girl? The girl! Tara! What had they done with her? He sank to the ground and groaned, rubbing his face in his hands. How was he going to get out of his one? Then he got up, went over to the door and banged as loudly as he could. “Hey, let me out” he shouted, knowing at the same time that that was a pretty pointless thing to say.

It did attract attention though, and before long he heard footsteps approaching, before the small window has thrown open.

“Look, the prisoner’s awake!” laughed a voice.

Tang stepped back to look up at the face in the window. “Why am I here?” he cried, “I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“Nothing wrong?” the voice laughed again. “I wouldn’t call kidnapping the king’s daughter nothing! You’re going to hang for that one. They’re preparing the gallows already!”

The window slammed shut, and Tang fell back to the floor in astonishment. Tara, the king’s daughter? He couldn’t believe it! Why was the king’s daughter out in the middle of the forest at night? Had she run away? That would explain the footmen, of course – the king must have had half his men out looking for the girl. Why didn’t he think of that?

There was a low bed covered in straw in the corner of the room. He went over and lay down, his head still pounding from the knock he had received, but now from the knowledge that he would almost certainly be hanged in the morning. He could tell the truth, of course, but who would believe him? He closed his eyes, and covered his face with his hands. A weariness overcame him, and he fell into another deep sleep.

***

He awoke to the sound of the door being opened, and before he knew what was happening, he was enveloped in a warm embrace, the long red hair flowing over his face. Tara! She wasn’t wearing the rough clothes from the night before, but rather a flowing red dress to match her fiery hair. Her foot was bandaged, but she seemed to be walking a lot better today.

“I’m so glad I found you!” she cried after she had released him from her firm embrace. “I tried to tell the guards, but they wouldn’t believe me. I told my father last night how stupid I was to run away, and all you had done for me. You must come with me now, he wants to meet you!”

In a daze, Tang took the girl’s hand as she led him up out of the dungeon, through the streets of Traskia and up the hill to the castle. All along the way, people stared in astonishment at this strange scene. She took him through the main entrance and up many a winding staircase, until they came to a room with a roaring fire with comfortable chairs. The king himself stood up to greet him.

“I owe you my thanks, Tang!” said the king, offering him a tankard of ale. “Let’s toast my daughter’s safe return” – at this point he cast an exasperated smile at his daughter – “and from this point on you are always welcome in my city”.

And of course, for this is a fairy tale and how all fairy tales end, Tang lived happily ever after in the city that finally welcomed him home.