Chapter 14 - E = All That Is

Chapter 14 - E = All That Is


.::Arthur as Astronomical Principal
   The 4th of the traditional astronomical seasons is Alban Arthuan, the light that is in darkness, for Arthur is in the place where the sun never comes, around the pole star.
   There is the mystic sky area of Arthur, the circle gorola; Arthur means the bear, and he is both the Great and the Little Bears.

His kingdom is the sky area of the circumpolar stars; his soul or high self points to the pole star, the axis of the universe.  Fixed as the standard of an unchanging truth, stella polaris' ray is received into the forehead of everyone whose concern is with truth.
   Of this, the Great Bear is the appointed guardian and the Little Bear the demonstrator.

Changing the figure, Arthur is Aradr, the ploughman of the heavens, when the Bear is called the Plough.  He sows the seeds of truth perpetually into dark soil.
  

Aloft Arthur rides, guiding us, guarding us, perhaps saving us, with the regularity of the ever-turning apogee, the heavens at their highest point for the northern hemisphere::.

Ross Nichols
The Book of Druidry


                              

                              . . . .

"I am convinced that for man to survive now, his perception must change at its social base."

"What is this social base of perception, don Juan?"

"The physical certainty that the world is made of concrete objects.  I call this a social base because a serious and fierce effort is put out by everybody to guide us to perceive the world the way we do."

"How then should we perceive the world?"

"Everything is energy.  The whole universe is energy. The social base of our perception should be the physical certainty that energy is all there is.  A mighty effort should be made to guide us to perceive energy as energy.  Then we would have both alternatives at our fingertips."


Carlos Castaneda
The Art of Dreaming



                              

                            * * * *


Once the shock had abated, Mr. Yeats was welcomed most fulsomely with warm brandy to the fireside...

 Daryl seemed especially discombobulated, but very glad to find Yeats here suddenly at his hearth.
  'My dear Yeats...,' he began, running a hand through his hair, and grinning as he shook his head slowly, '...you amaze me. I am never more happy to see anyone, here, now,' he stammered, confused.


Mr. Yeats crossed his long legs seated at the wingchair vacated by Daryl and sipped his cognac slowly, sighing. He observed the room about him serenely.
   'I happened to be in the neighborhood.'


This response sent Daryl into a quick fit of hastily stifled giggles. 'Indeed?!' He rubbed his forehead, then took hold of himself and sat in the chair beside Yeats.
  'And, what brings you to...the neighborhood?' He noticed he was still shaking slightly. Fearing Axelis at any moment no doubt.


Yeats let his gaze rest upon Emlyn a moment. He then looked over to Athena who sat upright now, intent upon him. He leaned forward.
  'I do not believe we have been properly introduced, milady...'

'Forgive us, Mr. Yeats!' Emlyn recovered herself, 'Allow us to present our dear friend and neighbor, Athena...' Em realized she had forgotten, perhaps never known, Athena's full name. She was simply as the goddess herself.

Yeats and Athena stood as one and, taking her hand, he brushed lips atop her fingers. 'Sean Devin Roland Yeats, at your service,' he murmured.
   Athena dropped a small curtsy, eyes lowered. 'Milord,' she answered, a wisp of a smile upon her features.
   Yeats had the same smile. They seemed to be sharing a mutual secret as yet unguessed by the others.
   Emlyn shot a look to Daryl; he glanced back her way, a finger across his lips, wonderingly.


Yeats straightened and gazed about the parlor. 'Seems odd to be, here. A long time gone.' He looked pointedly at Daryl. 'So much has happened, yes?'
   Daryl dropped a sigh. 'Yes.' He hardly knew where to begin.

 The older man went to his side and put a hand upon his shoulder. 'It has been a hard road, for you all. I'm aware, in part, of what has transpired recently.' He removed his hand, finished his drink and set his glass upon the tea table.
  'I believe you, and Emlyn, have now become Keepers...is this not so?'


Emlyn looked at Daryl. Apparently, so they had. What all that entailed, however, she'd no idea.
    Yeats turned to her then. 'That, is why I am now here, my dear,' he answered her thoughts. Dear old Yeats...
   She smiled. 'I'm glad.'

Yeats broke into a rare smile himself. 'That is well, for I may be here a little while...a night or two. If I may impose?'
   'We would like nothing better, my dear Yeats!' Daryl assured him. 'May I offer something from the kitchen?' Daryl tried to recall exactly what he had on offer...

 Mr. Yeats held up a hand. 'Ah...some coffee, perhaps? You and I, I am afraid, may be in conference for a while.' He turned then to Em and Athena, 'If, you could excuse us, ladies; we will be getting our ducks in a row, so to speak, and then we may all have a confab together...in the library, I believe, yes?'
He held out his hand in that general direction, as a shepherd directs his flock.

Daryl realised then that some things were indeed not so easily hidden...from some.

                             . . . .

'So, you know Axelis, but not Mr. Yeats?' Emlyn inquired of Athena as they sat with their own coffee in the kitchen.
   'Ye-yess...' Athena demurred, 'I have seen him, about...but we have never come face to face before.'


Hm. Interesting answer, Em thought. 'Well, I, for one, am rather glad of our chance to chat a bit ourselves.' She regarded Athena, who looked every bit as pleased as herself at this prospect.
  'Meanwhile...we'll get something rather supper-ish together, I suppose.'

'"Supper-ish", I can do,' Athena assured her. As the two women poked about the kitchen, Em soon found Athena knew her way about Daryl's house more than she, and so gratefully acquiesced to Athena's directions.
 

Chopping vegetables for a quiche, Emlyn decided to inquire further into the dangerous unknown.
   'So...what of your midnight ride tonight, eh?'

Athena smiled at the bowl full of ripe persimmons she was squashing to make spice bread.
  'You know, you can draw a very large hexagon from Capella, to Castor/Pollux, then to Procyon, Sirius, over to Rigel at the lower/right corner of Orion, and back up to Aldebaran in Taurus. That is the “Winter Circle” or “Winter Hexagon.”' Athena told her, circling about Em's question.


                              

 

 

  '...Of course, Orion and the Pleiades are bright in the winter skies...' She paused, '...it is a lovely night for star-gazing.'

'Is it? I thought a snow storm was threatening.' Em's eyebrow was at its zenith.
   'The sky is a very wide playing field...' Athena commented, unruffled, as she added chopped pecans to the mix.

Emlyn considered this, and found herself somewhat jealous of Athena's gadding about the galaxy with her ever-absent father. Unworthy thoughts, true, but still...
  Well, she had been busy gadding about with Daryl, and others in Otherworlds herself, sans Athena. Silly indeed, to be so mean-spirited.
  'I do wish you joy of one another,' she spoke low as she beat her eggs to death...

Athena calmly shoved her bread pan into the oven. 'It's hot enough now!' She announced, as she washed her hands.
   Em's quiche was placed next to the bread.
  'Both should be done at about the same time.' Athena
smiled at Emlyn.

'Yes. We work well enough together,' the older woman put an arm about Em's shoulders. 'You know, there is nothing your father would wish more than to be able to spend more time with you, and Anara, as well. It simply is not safe. These are dangerous times, you know...both yours and mine.'


She took a seat at table and Em joined her there, bringing the bowl of pecans.
   'I am always being told that now; that 'my' time, as you say, was rather a turning point, in many ways,' she commented, pouring coffee.


'You have read Marx and Engels, yes?' Athena regarded Em, who nodded. 'You know Karl Marx wanted to write a book on art, which he loved. However, after witnessing the horrors of factory life for workers in Manchester, he said his conscience would not allow him to rest until he wrote that little book on economics...' Athena wore a small sad smile.
                             

'Yes.' Em looked pensive. 'I used to have hopes for women's voting rights, and for socialism, but, after knowing the future...nothing has changed, and in fact, we nearly come close to destroying not only ourselves but the very planet itself.' She sighed.

'There were changes made by both movements, good ones.' Athena touched her hand briefly. 'But the elite could never allow the people to have any power, of course, and gains were always followed by a war, usually, or economic collapse, or a so-called 'natural' disaster, which always pushes the masses back down in the hole again. Keeping minorities and women in a 2nd class citizen position, has always been the goal of politics and religion. Truly, alas, even in my day, nothing much has changed there.'

They sat quietly with their coffee listening to the weather outside.
  'Wind is up,' Athena noted.
  'That shouldn't be a problem, if you are taking the conveyance I believe you might...' Em murmured.

'Emlyn, dear...' Athena poured a warm-up. 'You do realise that Axelis and I are friends. I think of him as a mentor. Much as, I would suppose, you think of your Mr. Yeats.'

  
She stirred in honey and continued:
   'I can't imagine ever wanting anything from Axelis except his vast fund of knowledge. He is, a very interesting being. But, well...if you seek someone who may be a real father...' she slowly shook her head, '...I don't think he has it in him. I do not think that their culture runs along the same lines as ours. For one, I believe that much fostering is done. One does not remain with one's birth parents long; much like what once was done amongst Keltic tribes, way back when.'
  Athena paused. 'I guess I'm trying to tell you that, well, he isn't exactly a 'warm' sort of...person.'


Emlyn couldn't think of any fathers who were, really.
Even the human ones. Which Axelis certainly wasn't.
   'It's a shame really...'


'Yes, the whole set-up is a shame, and shameful...' Athena returned to her earlier subject. 'Most people I knew, grew up with, worked with, were still ferociously inculcated with the notion that, even though the planet was running out of air, land, water, food, resources, space...that there was no reason not to have as many children as one wished, or to cut back at all on having everything one wished, for any reason, ever.
   'We knew that an economy based on endless wars would only doom us all, but no one seemed able to do anything about it. Our lives were not our own. It was out of our hands. Frankly, it never had been. It was all an artificial construct, the world-view enforced by various demagogues.'

'Are we doomed, then?' Em inquired, laconically, playing Old Nick's advocate.

'Of course not. That is, we are not...you know better, as do I. As does Daryl, and Mr. Yeats. You know that a human is something other than a brain, a nervous system, a body. Amazingly, most people do not. And worse, they refuse to even consider anything else, any available potential. Such has been the success of society and religion; to make people believe they are dumb and docile as possible. Do not wonder. Do not strive beyond what a blind worm thinks may be 'possible'.'

Emlyn laughed and Athena chuckled. 'We know, beyond any doubt, that the possibilities are endless, and infinite as the stars...'

                            

The kitchen door swung open then, and Daryl's head poked round. 'Something smells inviting...' he smiled and entered then, with Yeats hovering on his heels.
  He went to the oven and held his hands over it, inhaling. 'Quiche? I believe?'

'You had ham, and mushrooms...preserved artichoke hearts, peppers...' Emlyn smiled at him.
   '...Divine...' Daryl's hands hovered over the oven.
'I shouldn't open it, I know...but, ah,' he sniffed, 'some sort of spice bread; can't quite place it...'

'Persimmon.' Mr. Yeats was adamant.
'Got it one, Yeats!' Daryl nodded. 'Yes, that's it!'

'It is, indeed,' Athena arose. 'You are somehow just in time for supper!' She went to the oven. 'Nearly there...'
   'Let us eat in the kitchen, shall we?' Daryl began setting places at the old oaken table. 'Warm in here.
And smells so lovely, yes?'

                      . . . .


A more European supper followed then, as it was late evening.
  The storm picked up strength and all paused occasionally to listen to the rising wind and tattoo of occasional hail on the windows. They kept the woodfire well stoked however and were in no hurry to leave the kitchen.

Daryl resumed his seat after adding more wood to the stove.
  'So, you have seen the Professor also,' he addressed Mr. Yeats, '...recently, then?'

'We...became aware of him not so long ago. Around Samhain,' Yeats answered slowly.
   'He actually was working with the Others. That is how we discovered him. They had found a means to extract him from the time warp and reintegrate his mass there, and put him to use.
   'Where Jack was taken, to the subregions below, in that same alternate timeline Athena experienced, that is where he now lives, moves and has his being...such as it is.'

Athena frowned. 'That horrible plastic world, ruled by the Others, in that alternate earth...where Jack was held captive...,' she drifted off, '...that awful place...'


   Yeats nodded. 'The same. Yes, it is a synthetic world, ruled by synthetic creatures. It is their wish to make all of humankind such as they are...
   'You see, in part, it was WE who created them. And then, it rather quickly became a rather eleemosynary relationship at best; but it was and is in actual fact, simple slavery...'


'A.I.' Daryl interposed. 'Artificial Intelligence. I knew that was a Frankenstein monster in the making...even back in my day.'


'Is this the analytical engine of Babbage's?' Emlyn asked.
  'It is an outgrowth of that,' answered Yeats, 'First, came the early computer models, and then...well, the parvenu became convinced that thinking faster, like a machine, would be the next step in 'evolution'. Imagine!' Yeats managed to look aghast and bored at the same time. 'Vitiation viewed as progress...'

Daryl cracked a nut. 'People became desperate to give up the only thing that could free them from the wheel of rebirth; that which makes us human.
   'And so, began implanting themselves with chips. Eventually, they doomed themselves to an inimical ennui...a soul-less existence, without relief, without feeling, and without end.'


All were quiet for a moment. They could hear, above the wind now, the soft sonorous chime of the Grandfather clock in the parlor announcing the witching hour...

And then --
  A flash of blue light streaked by the window suddenly.


Athena stood.
  She smiled at the assembled company.
  'I believe that's my ride...'

                         . . . .

                          

Ring Out Solstice Bells Jethro Tull Songs from the Wood
Ring Out Solstice Bells

Chapter 13 - Organisms Above and Beyond

Chapter 13 - Organisms Above and Beyond


"...They are  so ridiculous, these English magicians! They do everything in such a roundabout way. I tell you, Stephen, watching this fellow try to do magic is like watching a man sit down to eat his dinner with his coat on backwards, a blindfold round his eyes and a bucket over his head!  When did you ever see me perform such nonsensical tricks?  Draw forth my own blood or scribble words on paper? Whenever I wish to do something, I simply speak to the air - or to the stones -or to the sunlight - or the sea - or to whatever it is and politely request them to help me.  And then since my alliances with these powerful spirits were set in place thousands of years ago, they are only too glad to do whatever I ask."

-- The Gentleman, (a Fairy), to Stephen

from:
Susanna Clarke's
Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell

                          . . . .


"Your flaw is to remain glued to the inventory of reason.  Reason doesn't deal with man as energy. Reason deals with instruments that create energy, but it has never seriously occurred to reason that we are better than instruments: we are organisms that create energy..."


'Don Juan'
The Fire From Within
Carlos Castaneda

                               

                            * * * *


'Daryl...?' Emlyn called as she entered the big cold House.
'Wuf!' She kept her coat wrapped tightly about her as she went first to check the parlor where she noted a weak fire  beginning to catch there, but no sign of the Master of the House.


Kitchen, perhaps?
   Ah, a bit warmer here; someone had the woodstove going and a kettle on. Still no Daryl.
   The library, of course; that surely would be Daryl's hideout where he could secret and gloat over his Infernal Objects d'Arts...


As Em trek'd to the library's double doors she had a mental construct of Daryl bent Scrooge-like over his antiques and insalubrious acquisitions, rubbing hands together and chortling over his baneful booty...
  -- Ah, and so he was!


Well, perhaps not altogether so; He was standing hands on hips regarding Cup and Box before him upon the study desk. At least a fire was burning brightly here...Em removed her coat at last.


  She sidled up to him. 'Alright, luv?' She inquired, eyebrow at the arch and ready for action.
  'Hm. Yes...' He frowned at Cup and Box. Sighed. Then he seemed to see Em at last.
   He turned to her, smiled slightly and put an arm about her shoulders. 'You're cold still...' he hugged her to his side. 'It will warm in here soon. Manuel lighted the fires and then left, fast as a Chilean fleeing a snow storm, back to Fog City!'


'It is beginning to warm up here, a bit...' Emlyn tried to repress a shiver as she clung to Daryl like a heat-seeking lizard to a rock.
   'The...items are all here I see.'

 'Yes. Odd, though.' He chanced a glance her way, and back.
  'Just a moment ago, I thought I detected a sort of blueish glow about them both. It came, and then went...' His hand stretched toward the Things, and then flew off, and away.
   He suddenly recalled something, turning to Em. 'Where is Athena?'
   Em sighed. She had an idea what may have just caused such a glow.
  'Shall we sit at the fire a moment?'


Daryl nodded, and took a key from the desk drawer. Opening the armoire, he then sheathed the Cup and stowed it within, then setting the Box beside it, locked up.
 

'Daryl...the oddest thing just happened...outside,' she began as he took a seat beside her.
  'Athena and I were walking here, when we both saw a silver streak in the sky; it headed behind the birch grove and seemed to settle somewhere in the woods beyond.' She looked at Daryl closely to see if he understood what this might portend.
  She touched his arm to get his attention. 'I saw Athena meeting someone then, someone I knew.'


Daryl frowned before him, not looking at her. 'Who?' Daryl had an idea then, whom it may have been. He was not happy at the notion.
  'It was Axelis. My, ah, father. MEETING with Athena!' Em rubbed her forehead. 'I don't know what to think!'


'That explains the blue glow...' Daryl sighed. Ah, gods...Lord and Lady, this did not bode well.
  Daryl stood then and went to the mantle, drummed his fingers upon it. Put hands in his pockets and began to pace.
 -- Athena and Axelis!


Daryl had suspected, and in fact, had known, that Athena went timewalking and made journeys into Otherworlds on her own, for as long as he had known her. However...he never did enquire too closely into her personal business.


  Theirs had always been a friendly relationship; Daryl as her young admirer, had wished to offer his favorite librarian a refuge when he had made his escape into the alternate Timeline here. Athena had been more than willing to come.


But, just as she hadn't delved into Daryl's personal life, neither did he feel he'd any right to mind Athena's business; he'd enough of his own.
  He had noticed certain oddities about the skies, and around the Gatehouse, but that could have been attributed to almost anything, with this place...


                                       

  Then, too...this may be something new; he'd a thought just then: Oh, diosa...!
  Daryl's head fell forward into his hands; a low moan escaping him...


'Querido? Are you alright?' Emlyn sat forward, regarding Daryl.
   'Ooh...I, I don't really know!' Daryl scratched his hair, and turned a half-grinning, half-frowning countenance toward her. He looked like a man who, having played a practical joke upon someone, suddenly found it had blown up in his face.
   'I, I am just thinking that, you know...maybe...ah,' Daryl grabbed the poker and thrust it about the fire, then laughed, mirthlessly. He straightened up and leaned upon the poker, looking at Em.


'I, eh, just wondered if Axelis...if he KNOWS, Em! -- Ah!' Daryl shook the poker at nothing, then looked at it as if he had no idea what it was. Put it back in the rack.
   'Oh, Emlyn...why did I not even think of this?!' He plopped himself upon the sofa beside her once more, and bent over, head in hands again.
   'Diego -- ?' Emlyn put a tentative hand upon her suddenly unhinged partner.


  'Ooh...' Groaning again, Daryl looked up. 'Of course, he knows, he must. Emlyn...you are his daughter! I did not even consult him, before we...' Daryl swallowed, and choked, coughing.
  'Ah, gods...naturally he would be concerned about whom weds his daughter! Bloodlines tracked; in the making, bioengineered over the centuries...' Daryl regarded the fire in despair. 'I am in deep, dejecta...'


Emlyn stifled a chortle. She put her arm though his. 'Diosa, Diego! He knows you!' (Daryl flinched a bit at this thought.)
  'We are adults, cher! We need not ask permission, and even if -- I mean, how to accomplish such a maneuver? To get hold of Axelis? Ring him? Send a wireless? He is about the most insubstantial, amorphous being one could find...even more so than my other father...'
  Em simply couldn't believe Daryl was quaking in his boots at the thought of Axelis taking him to task for not asking for Emlyn's hand.


Daryl just looked at her. He simply couldn't believe that Emlyn was so dismissive of such egregious effrontery as he had surely presented toward his 7 foot tall future father-in-law with a Pleiadian warship...
   '-- Oy...' Daryl groaned, his head falling into his hands once again.


Emlyn bit her lip to keep from grinning. How quaint that Daryl would suddenly recall such tender niceties after the fact. She patted his shoulder in sympathy. Doofus.


Daryl tried to recall the last time he had seen Axelis...when it was he'd no idea, but it was decidedly whenever they had rescued Jack from the Maelstrom in the Bermuda Triangle, with said warship. It was rather something else again to think of such just outside his windows...


                             

  

Yeats had been aboard, also; he had been instrumental in Jack's deliverance. As had Thelene...but not Anara.
   Daryl's head jerked up. My gods and goddess...he'd forgotten that rather sticky aspect; he had once wooed Axelis'
other daughter as well, Anara. Emlyn's sister.


   Could it be any worse? What could Axelis possibly think of him, other than to consider him an opportunist of the worst sort?
   A revolutionary, a thief, (that is: some would argue the legality of some of his acquisitions), not quite an arms-dealer, (although some would argue this point, also), a conniving, womanizing rapscallion, kidnapping Emlyn and dragging her across centuries and worlds not her own, embroiling them in wars, duels, battles and beheadings (his own), natural disasters and possible human sacrifice...(his own again, as well; having only been just saved by Em.)
   Oh, he had much to recommend himself as a prospective son-in-law, alright...


'Was that a knock at the front door?' Emlyn glanced behind her.
   Daryl leapt up like a scalded cat. His fur would have stood up if he'd any. Defenselessly human in his skin, his stomach roiled and he broke out in a cold sweat. He ran a hand through his already-much-disheveled hair and wondered if he could flee out the window. Or into another century...another planet.
   He'd a sinking feeling the infernal warship could follow him to the Otherworld and take the hounds of Annwn after him with it.
   -- Nothing for it.
  'I'll...go see,' he croaked hoarsely.


                          . . . .


Walking as to his doom, Daryl slowly approached the front door which rattled under the knocker's blows. His mouth was dry as Martian dust and his bowels suddenly felt rather loose... Emlyn strode amiably by his side.
   'Diosa have mercy...,' he whispered, lifting a shaking hand to the doorknob.


The door opened to a snow-frosted Athena. 'About time! What took so long? I'm frozen as a popsicle!'
   '"Pop-sickle?"' Em inquired, taking Athena's long white fur-trimmed coat.
   'Umm...rather like carbonated frozen sugar with artificial color and flavor, or was at one time. Best done without, now. Thanks Em!' She shook out her long silver tresses. 'What's got into you now?' She studied Daryl, 'You look as though you'd seen a ghost!'
   Daryl smiled weakly. 'I...it's nothing. Come in and warm up, we should have a decent fire in the parlor by now.'


Athena cocked a wry eyebrow, but kept her peace for the nonce as she gratefully settled into the sofa beside the fireplace, and removed her mukluks.
  'It's a fine night, the storm is just now blowing in off the coast! Should be another foot or so of snow soon...'


Daryl stood silent by the mantle, rubbing long fingers over his chin. He poked the fire and added a log, as Emlyn entered bearing a tea tray.
   'Oh, hot tea...lovely!' Athena rubbed her hands. 'So! Will you be staying on a while here, then?'
  

'We...aren't really sure, as yet,' Emlyn began hesitantly. 'It was a rather impetuous trip, this.'
   '"Impetuous", eh?' Athena sipped her tea, gazing at Daryl. 'That describes you to a "T".'


'I'm not all that bad!' Daryl looked at her, as though truly pained.
  Emlyn smiled at him. 'No, Daryl, you really are not! So don't worry about it!'
  'Worry about, what? I'm missing something here!' Athena leaned back, arms behind her head.


Emlyn decided that perhaps it was time for a bit of disclosure.
  'I don't think that you miss much, Athena luv.'
  That good lady regarded Em. 'Do tell, then? There is something that has Daryl worried as a turkey on Thanksgiving -- you can't hide it, you know...' she added, shooting him an inquiring look.
   Daryl stared off into space, silent.


                                      

'Perhaps...it has something to do with...your rather, long friend, whom you met with just now, out in the birch forest,' Em decided to leap in head-first.
   Athena threw back her head and laughed heartily. 'My "long friend", indeed!' She smiled with narrow cat's eyes at Em.
  '...Is someone rather close to YOU, I think, Emlyn!'


'Oohhh...' A piteous soft groan escaped from Daryl, head now in his arms upon the mantle piece.
   Emlyn sighed, regarding Athena. 'Daryl is somewhat concerned about Axelis, my father, just now.'
   'I see-ee...' Athena's eyes flickered over the distraught Daryl, who now began pacing once more. He stopped when he reached the walnut bar.
   'Ah. Worried about your girlfriend's father, is it?' Athena threw at him over her shoulder, winking at Em.
   Emlyn merely thought, Oh, that's not but the half of it...


Daryl sighed and regarded his decanters. Armagnac, or cognac?
A Courvoisier sort of evening coming on, he decided, grasping the cut glass crystal.
   'Anyone care to join me?'

                               

Athena grinned at Emlyn, who was torn betwixt grinning back at her, and enjoying Daryl's misery, or showing genuine concern over poor Diego's plight.
   'Perhaps a wee dram, Daryl, merci...'
   'I'll pass,' Athena sat forward, pouring more tea. 'I may go for a midnight ride, later tonight.'
  

'Surely not with the horses!' Daryl handed Emlyn her snifter.
   Athena smiled languidly, sipping her tea. 'Oh, no. Horses would not be involved at all. Not tonight. It's not that sort of ride.'


Em took a sip of encouraging brandy. 'How do you know Axelis, Athena? I only recently met the man myself a year or so ago,' she admitted reluctantly.
  Athena was grinning no longer. 'Yes, he told me. I'm sorry you didn't know sooner...he wanted to tell you from the beginning, you know. It wasn't easy for him to keep his silence all this while.'


'You have known Axelis long?' Daryl turned to her accusingly.
  'I have known him oh, not all that long. I came upon him and his ship, one winter much like this...a few years ago,' Athena began, her eyes staring out into nothingness as she recalled a personal mindscape.
   '...It was like nothing I'd ever seen in real life, you know. Out there, by the frozen lake...I came through the evergreen wood and what I saw there, I simply had no words for.
  'That silver ship! Big as a house, as YOUR house, Daryl!' She glanced his way, 'Just sitting there, silent...no birds, no wind, nothing; as though the world had all the noise sucked out of it. But, I wasn't frightened. Intrigued. So sleek, and beautiful, and not at all part of the natural world.'


                                   

Emlyn and Daryl both listened, rapt, recalling their own sighting of Axelis' ship.
  'So!' Athena poured more tea, 'I walked up to the thing. And, I was NOT expecting anyone to be...home. But, there was.'
   She held her cup before her, looking down into her tea. 'A
sortof opening appeared and a ramp to the ground. A man was framed in the doorway. A tall, fair man. I thought I was seeing the return of King Arthur or suchlike...' Athena's lips ghosted a smile. 'Well, I'd hoped, you know.'
   Em smiled in return.


'Well, long story short, that was how we met. And, he has been stopping by, on occasion, ever since.' Athena ran a hand through her hair, settling against the sofa's back once more.
 'And, that's really all there is to it.'


Daryl was rubbing his forehead by the fire. He didn't look at Athena or at anyone as he commented:
  'You...have been meeting with an Ultradimensional 7 foot tall being, most likely over a hundred years old or twice that, who not only is Emlyn's and Anara's father, but commands a millennium-old Pleiadian war ship? And, you think it is of no consequence whatsoever? Hardly worth mentioning?'


Emlyn took objection, 'It IS her own personal business, Daryl...'
  'Yes, Daryl, luv...it is,' Athena added, '...And I had always valued our friendship, for many things, not the least of which, that we each do mind our own business and not poke noses into one anothers personal lives...yes?'


Daryl's fingers drummed upon the mantle.
  Athena sighed, soft and short. She stood. 'Perhaps I shall take a wee shot of firewater...'
  'Courvoisier is NOT firewater...Really!' Daryl did his best Dorian Grey-cum-Jack Benny.


A sideways smile slid upon Athena's features as she glanced at Em briefly, picked up the decanter and poured an amber stream for herself and freshened Em's glass.
  She offered it to Daryl then, who deigned to acknowledge her at last and nodded.
  Athena topped him off, and let her eyes range over him.


'I, for one, think it's fine that you know one another!' Emlyn
declared.
  Athena set the decanter upon the tea table and resumed her seat upon the sofa, tucking her long legs beneath her as she turned to Em.
  'I'm glad. He's a fine man, your father. He would have spent more time with you, if he but could.'
 

'There has been, there have been...some developments, since we last shared a cup between us,' Daryl had decided to return to the living, and address the company suddenly.

   What could this all be about, Em wondered, anxious now. We'd just agreed not to delve too deeply into one anothers lives...Athena need not know...
   Em twisted the emerald ring upon her left hand. She'd been in such a hurry, leaving the Bay Area for Massachusetts...she had forgotten to take it off. Should she, in fact? Where was Daryl heading now? Where were they both heading? They'd hardly had a chance to speak together since the Solstice...


'Yess...' Daryl sauntered over to his wingchair, taking a seat by the fire, brandy at the ready...this discussion would require some lubrication.
  'Upon the Solstice, Emlyn and I found ourselves in Sonora once more. Only we were our gypsy selves; she, Josephina, at 17, and I, Diego, at 20.'
   Athena gave him all her attention, but said nothing.


Daryl continued, 'Naturally, chaos ensued...kidnappings, a volcano blew, and I was staked upon a pyramid as a sacrifice to the elder gods. Thanks to Em, or Josephina and friends, I was rescued, as you see.
   'However, upon our return, we found ourselves embroiled in something perhaps even stranger...' He flicked a glance Emlyn's direction, 'We 'accidentally' ran into a timewalking Condomble practitioner, who had dealings not only with my antiques contact in the City, but also with friends of Emlyn...and, I believe now, that Axelis may not be Em's only paterfamilias still hovering about.'


'WHAT?!' Em sat up. 'What exactly are you suggesting, Daryl?'
Her innards felt frozen suddenly.
  Daryl leaned forward, 'I'm sorry, Em, but, it seems to point to that. I believe that your father, the mundane one...is still lost in a timewarp somehow. I have suspected this as far back as when I appeared to you in the flames at Crowley Place. You had seen a vision of your father in the flames then as well, you recall?'


Emlyn had. It had given her quite a fright at the time. She frowned, and twisted the ring on her finger.
  'What should we do? What CAN we do, anything?'
  Daryl sighed and took a deep pull from his glass. 'I...haven't been able to think of anything. Or I'd have tried to free him long ago.'


'I don't suppose, Jack...' Em didn't wish to think of Jack. Or her father...the other one.
  Daryl stared at the fire. 'Jack never thought it a good idea to even try, Em. While it was through your father's notes, as well as Dr. Stein's, that we were able to develop modern Time Travel, many lasting mistakes were engendered when they had first loosened such rough magic. Some with such long-lasting pernicious malignancy...' He ran both hands through his hair in frustration.
  'Well, we all agreed to abide with the decision not to, ah,
attempt a rescue.'


'You agreed...?' Em frowned.
  'Yes. Jack, Aleister and I...and others as well.' Daryl hoped she would not inquire further.
  'Well...' Em sighed, at last, 'I have to concur. I am certainly not anxious to see him again. Why are you thinking of this now, then?'
  'Just a hunch,' Daryl demurred. 'Perhaps it was having Axelis here now, after all this time...' He set his empty glass before him. 'I, don't know...'


'--You had better trust your hunches,' came a voice from the hallway. A familiar voice. One not heard in seeming ages...


All stood as they heard him, and, to their unbelieving eyes,
appearing out of the hallway's gloom into the flickering firelight of the parlor, suddenly loomed the tall and commanding figure of their former benefactor...
   '-- Mr. Yeats!' Emlyn exclaimed with gleeful relief.


'As you see...' Yeats, big as life and twice as improbable, deigned to crack a soft smile as he removed his long coat.
   'Care to share your hearthside with an old friend?'


                               

                          . . . .
WATCH AND LISTEN!
"TROIKA" Sergei Prokofiev

Chapter 12 - The Great White Cold

Chapter 12 - The Great White Cold

                                   . . . .


..::In Kabbalah, Renaissance magic, and alchemy, the language of the birds was considered a secret and perfect language and the key to perfect knowledge, sometimes also called the langue verte, or green language.

In medieval France, the language of the birds (la langue des oiseaux) was a secret language of the Troubadours, connected with the Tarot, allegedly based on puns and symbolism drawn from homophony, e. g. an inn called au lion d'or "the Golden Lion" is allegedly "code" for au lit on dort "in the bed one sleeps"

In Norse mythology, the power to understand the language of the birds was a sign of great wisdom. The god Odin had two ravens, called Hugin and Munin, who flew around the world and told Odin what happened among mortal men.

The legendary king of Sweden Dag the Wise was so wise that he could understand what birds said. He had a tame house sparrow which flew around and brought back news to him. Once, a farmer in Reidgotaland killed Dag's sparrow, which brought on a terrible retribution from the Swedes.


In Greece, Tiresias was also said to have been given the ability to understand the language of the birds by Athena::..

                         . . . .


"Women are peerless dreamers," Esperanza assured me.
"Women are extremely practical. In order to sustain a dream, one must be practical, because the dream must pertain to practical aspects of oneself. 
   "My teacher's favorite dream was to dream of herself as a hawk. Another was to dream of herself as an owl. So depending on the time of the day, she could dream about being either one, and since she was dreaming while she was awake, she was really and absolutely a hawk or an owl."

Florinda Donner
Being-In-Dreaming

                      . . . .

"...I just want a little bungalow, where I can call home...and tell my wife I won't be there for dinner."

Groucho, as Capt. Spaulding
Marx Bros
Animal Crackers



                              

                               . . . .

"Snow!"
-- Emlyn exclaimed.
   Daryl had decided to deposit them outside on that particular offchance which now blanketed the expanse before them.
   Em was delighted; she smiled, shut her eyes, and held her face up to the softly alighting crystalline flakes...this, this was what she had longed for!
   Daryl spoke not, but quietly turned round and, bending over, briskly fashioned sommat with his hands, then stepped back...
  

-- Twack! 'Pon Emlyn's back splat the speeding snow sphere!
  'The devil -- !!' Em cried, as she scooped up her own frozen artillery, and the formerly anxious couple were magically transformed into laughing, yelling children again as they chased each other about the grounds, ducking behind bushes and letting fly with their melting missiles...a folie au deux.


 Em was hiding around her trees, snowball in hand, looking for Daryl; who meanwhile, had crept up silently behind...
   '-- Gotcha!' He cried, as he grabbed her about the waist and swung her about, the two screeching and laughing as though they were Diego and Josephina again.
    (-- If their young selves had frolic'd in snow and not sand, that is.)

They stood hugging one another, catching their breath, when...
  '-- Listen!' Daryl held up a finger...
  'Ahh!' Em gasped, '-- Bells! Sleigh bells!'
  Daryl looked down and grinned at her. 'Athena!'

Hand in hand, they ran to view the narrow gravel lane that served as a road to the estate, now snow-blanketed, and soon beheld in the distance such a scene as would only emerge from a Norse fairy tale...
  
Accompanying the light silvery belling, in the distance appeared a pale blue dappled and piebald horse drawing a blueish-silver sleigh piled all about with white sheepskins.


   Holding the lines was an exact visage of the Snow Queen -- leaning forward, an eager, softly smiling pale woman sat driving, wrapped in a coat of white and trimmed with ribbands of Norse/Celtic embroideries about the front and and wrists. A fluffy milk-white collar encircled her neck and framed her white-gloved hands.


    Her long silver hair flew streaming behind her in the wild wind like a trailing cloud sparkling with snowflakes; she held her face to the wind, and laughed for the sheer joy of it...
   ...A lone kestrel flew behind her, calling.


                              

Emlyn and Daryl were enraptured by the sight.
  'Oh! Isn't she glorious?!' Glancing up, Em noted Daryl was smiling now, his face relaxed for the first time that day.
  '-- Let us go to her, Diego! May we?' She put her arm through his.
  Daryl regarded her from on high, his smile quirked slightly to the left. 'I think that a fine idea, Josephina.'

                                 . . . .


By the time the two reached the Gatehouse, they found horse and sled put away in the stables.
   'It IS a real horse!' Emlyn marveled, as her awestruck eyes roamed over the odd dappling of actual pale stars upon the horse's blueish-slate coat.


'Yes,' answered Daryl as he ran a hand over the horse's back, patting his neck. 'Although with a name like 'Hermes', he may have been lent a magical bent...'
      Daryl stood, gazing about the old stone stables, tack room and yard. 'They're a fairly new breed; a Chocolate Silver Dapple Pinto.'

                        
                                 

'Chocolate Silver! He seems unreal...a fairy horse.' Em was delighted to see such a myth come to life. A unicorn couldn't have thrilled her more.


   Such a brave new world, indeed! Crop circles, horses with star-coats! And no one appreciated these awesome everyday miracles, according to Daryl and Athena; most folk of their day were either too poor and struggling to survive, or so rich they were jaded to the gills. By all accounts, everyone lived a virtual life untouched by anything natural. Indeed, nature had long since vanished from the World of Man.


'Shall we knock up Athena?' Em inquired.
    'Eh?' Daryl looked nonplussed momentarily. 'Ah, yes, let's...'  They shuffled off through the snow to the Gatehouse proper.

                       . . . .

Em's light tapping was soon answered by a smiling Athena.
  'I had a feeling you were coming! Entre', do!'
  Em and Daryl kicked as much snow from their boots as they could against the door step and shook their coats free of flakes, then sat and removed boots in the entryway.
  ...Homecoming.


'I'm heating cocoa...' Athena called over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen.
   'Excellent, luv!' Daryl answered. 'When did the snow begin?' He ran hands through his hair and sauntered in to the parlor.


'Oh, sometime around mid-November, actually! This is nothing new around here!' Athena brought a tray into the room and set it upon the large sea chest that served as table before the fireplace. 'Do have a cuppa and warm up. You saw us on the road, I suppose?'   


Seating herself on the sofa, she took up her mugful and curled her legs beneath her, ala Emlyn.
  Em soon followed her example and helped herself to a steaming cup of chocolate. Daryl sat in the armchair across from the ladies and sipped, feet propped upon the hearth.
  'Mmm...marshmallows...' He smiled a Diego-like mischievous grin.


'This feels so good...your cosy place, the warm fire...snow!' Emlyn enthused. 'Thank you for the hospitality...did you really think we were coming?'
  'I did.' Athena leaned back, a small smile at the corners of her lips and eyes. 'I dreamed it. Last evening.'
  'You knew before we did, then!' Daryl replied. 'Very spur of the moment, this trip.'


The three friends sat companionably for a while, enjoying chocolate in silence and defrosting; no sounds but the crackling of logs on the fire and the occasional 'whump!' of snow falling from branches about the cottage.

   Emlyn wondered how much Athena knew. A canny lady, she; Em wouldn't be surprised to find she knew all. Actually, however, Em simply wished to soak up life in the moment; the Here and Now, as she and Diego had sworn to do...

Daryl stretched his legs out before him, crossing ankles and sighed.
  'We were feeling rather bereft of real weather in the west...I was hoping that Old Man Winter may have made an appearance here by now.'

Athena returned from the kitchen with a tin of biscuits.  'Oh, yes...well, you popped in and out again not so long ago, you know.'
 

Daryl accepted a rich Scottish shortcake. 'Just to check on you, luv. Couldn't stay long, and didn't even notice the weather outdoors then. T'was late at night, last time I recall...'


  'It was. Luckily I am a night owl...' Athena's gaze went to the many representations of owls about the mantle. Owls carved in wood, an owl clock face, owl statues...one, very life-like, turned its head suddenly and looked at Emlyn with wide orange eyes.


'The...that's...' Em stammered, '...a real owl!'
   'Minerva, yes...' Athena smiled, a genuine fondness showing for her feathered companion. 'I found her with a wounded wing a month or so ago. She visits now, occasionally. Sleeps here days, and leaves me to hunt at night. I've rigged a door for her up an unused chimney; she knows how to open it, comes and goes as she pleases.'

                           

'She is recovered?' asked Daryl, craning his neck behind him, afraid to stand and upset Minerva.
  'She is. And mice are no longer a problem.'


Minerva shook her feathers and closed her jack-o-lantern eyes once more, leaving the visitors to their own business.
  'She seems most at-ease for a wild creature,' noted Daryl. 'What of your hawk now?'


'Falcon, actually. American kestrel. Grace, I call her. Amazing how they can hover, you know, even inside a barn, say. They were once referred to as 'Windhovers'. She, too, comes and goes as she pleases, but I've made a place for her in the stables, when she wishes to visit.' Athena gazed out the frosty windows, sleepy-eyed and mellow from her outing in the great white Winter world.

                             

She regarded them after a pause. 'So you are come here seeking Winter.'
   'We are, we do,' Emlyn replied. 'It is still so dry back west...'
   '...While we're in a state of stormy siege here, always, I know.' Athena acknowledged. 'But, after my brief foray into that other world, I am more than content here.' Her eyes went to Daryl's, and he read  truth therein.


'Also,' Daryl began, 'I needed to secret some...antiques, back at the House,' Daryl frowned, remembering. 'They must remain there, I now know.' He shifted uneasily. 'It's been quite the adventure twixt the Solstice and now...'


'But, the Solstice was only, what, yesterday?' Athena puzzled.
  'For most, yes.' Emlyn left it at that.
  'For us, however,' Daryl continued, 'it has been...
rather a rough go.' His eyes took on a haunted look, and Em knew he was recalling his near-death experience staked upon a pyramid as sacrifice to the death cult.


'We're come here, to put all that behind us, and for a fresh outlook on things,' Em briskly asserted.
   Athena took the hint and did not inquire into their
alleged 'adventures', but she did wonder...

'Well, you came to the right place,' she smiled.
  'Here, nature holds sway. All this,' her hand made a graceful arc, 'is ruled by wind and snow, the thunder and rains, the owl and the falcon. I fancied I even heard a wolf howl the other evening.' Athena paused.   '...And, at times, even stranger things do surprise. The Northern Lights, upon occasion. The skies round about are full of silent mysteries...'


'Ah,' Daryl sat back, and, clasping his hands across his belly, he intoned: '"There are strange things done neath the midnight sun, by the men who toil for gold. The Northern Lights have seen queer sights...,"' he paused, frowning; '...eh, how does it go now?'


Thinking of queer sights, Emlyn couldn't resist;
'Athena, I hope you don't mind, but, we did stop in the stables to look at your horse and sled! I have never beheld such a gorgeous creature! He seems unreal!'


'I assume you mean Hermes? My dappled chocolate star-horse?' Athena smiled wide, gazing into the fire.
  'Yes, he is a beauty. Did you meet Freya? She's my Norwegian Fjord Horse...also quite lovely; another fairy-tale beastie.'

                                  

                               


'Indeed?' Daryl sat up. 'We missed Freya.' His eyes went to Em. 'But we'd love to become acquainted sometime. Soon, perhaps?' Em nodded with anticipation.

  'But just now...' he finished his cocoa and took a ginger snap, putting it in his pocket as he rose.
  'I'm afraid duty calls.' Again his glance went to Em, who regarded him with questioning eyes. 'There are some items I am having transferred to the big House. Manuel is probably there by now...'
 

Daryl went behind Emlyn and put his hands upon her shoulders, bending to her...
  'Just to settle us in, luv. Warm up the place sommat. You may join me, or stay here with Athena awhile longer?' His gaze searched that lady's own, who nodded smiling.  

Athena took Em's hand. 'Do stay on a bit. It has been long since we've had a chance to chat, no?'

Em touched Daryl with her free hand. 'Oh, I'd love to stay, Diego! Just for a bit, to warm up. I don't mind walking back alone...'
   Athena spoke up, 'Nonsense, I shall come with you. The paths look much changed in the snow.' She regarded Daryl, 'Off you go then! We shall meet anon!'


Daryl kissed Em on the cheek, and bussed Athena as well before he donned his winter gear and made his exit with an 'Abientot, cheries!' He stamped his feet and began singing as he shut the door...something about 'The Great White Cold Walks Abroad...'



Athena gazed after him for a bit, then sighed and stretched. 'Now, we shall have a good talk. I shall make us some coffee, yes?' She floated off the sofa and came behind Em, as Daryl had. 'I have missed you, little sister.'
   Em patted the hand upon her shoulder. 'And I, you, Athena.'

                      . . . .


As Athena puttered about the kitchen, Emlyn went to the fire and stirred it up, added a fresh log. She studied Minerva upon her perch, surrounded by fresh straw studded with cedar leaves. The owl had gone back into dormant statue mode, her eyes closed. Upon the mantle piece she had found the warmest spot in the house.


'Is the gatehouse heated by wood fire only, Athena?'
Em inquired as she moved about the welcoming room of amber-hued cut log and grey stone.

                           

   'Aye, so it is!' The older woman called over her shoulder. 'The forest is generous with windfalls, and it's truly all we need. This woodstove cooks and bakes better than anything, really. Upstairs, in the loft, the heat rises so I hardly need a thing...the hot water
heater is attached to the woodstove, see?'
 

Athena soon re-entered the parlor with a tray; upon it a French press coffee server and two cups, some nuts and sliced apples.
   'I do have a generator for backup, however. Rarely needed. We are wired for electric, but we are off the grid here.'
   '"The Grid"?' Em inquired.


'Umm. The electric or gas or whatever companies who dominated the energy corporations. Daryl has his own way of generating energy here. A good thing, since the CME decimated the grid long ago.'
   Athena's explanation made little sense to Em, but she did catch an inkling of what all that entailed, in the broadest sense. She was cognizant of electric magnetic storms which had disrupted communications in her time.


'I see...' Memories of Jack came to Em then. 'Back in California, Jack succeeded somewhat in getting more local folks to use vegetable oil in their cooking instead of lard, and then to save the used oil for a sort of bio-diesel fuel to run machines.' She accepted a cup of the dark fragrant coffee from Athena.


   'It smells divine...' Em sipped, sighed, then continued: 'Jack maintained that it was my time, in the late 1800's, that the Industrial Revolution began to create the great schism between humans and nature. Indeed, that humans began then to lose their humanity then, and to become mere cogs in the machine...'


'Indeed,' Athena was quick to agree. 'It was called 'progress' but it was merely subterfuge; cloaking incipient invasion, and eventual devastation of humanity.' Her eyebrows rose as she made this pronouncement, studying Em's face.


'I can see this now...' Emlyn did, or was beginning to, after all she'd learned from her timewalking friends and, Others.
  'Not to mention, the child laborers in factories, the relentless long hours forced upon all...the miners to feed the ironworks, held in thrall by corporate trusts to a life of danger and disease, simply to survive...oh, progress, indeed...enriching the pockets of the few at the expense of the many...'


Em had heated up to the subject, and fondly recalled her time with Lev Kopalski and her adolescent self then in league with his ideals.  As well as the unionizing and other socialist activism, they had raided the rich haciendas for food and silver, to distribute to the poor.
   She smiled, and sighed, to think on their youthful shenanigans...they had envisioned themselves as a modern Robin Hood and Maid Marian back then.

                     

She wondered then about Lev, and what had become of him? She recalled that Alice had mentioned he and Orez had become rather close! Dear Lev, he hadn't changed.
All to the good, that...
  She wished she had had time to speak with Alejandro/Raimundo privately; before leaving the Inn of Sopa and Fog.


'Tuppence for your thoughts?' Athena inquired, smiling.



Emlyn regarded her friend, an older sister so she seemed, now; they had been through so much. But Athena and Daryl had seemed rather...intimate also. She wondered just what their relationship was, in fact. She did not wish for anyone to come between anyone else! All rather convoluted, her relationships...
  And...best not to even think of Jack, just yet.


'Oh, just memories...' Em poured more coffee, refreshing Athena's cup and her own. 'This, here and now, is the first chance I have had to sit and think!'
   Em sighed, falling back upon the sofa.
  'I'm rather weary of all this timewalking and tearing about!'

'I see...I think,' Athena nodded once. 'Although the Solstice was, what, a day ago? I'm beginning to intuit that for you and Daryl, it has been rather longer?'

Emlyn bit her lip. 'The bloody Solstice again! What is it with the sabbats anyway? "The thinning of veils betwixt the worlds", I know...'


'Exactly, cher.' Athena sounded like Daryl now. 'So it is. At these times, there are...forces, and energies that either you can act upon, or which will act upon you. Especially upon folk like us, who operate somewhat out of the agreed-upon Timeline.' Athena then became pensive, and frowned into the fire. 'It's all a matter of energy and perception.'


'Athena...' Em decided to voice something that had been upon her mind since meeting the enigmatic Athena.
  '...I, hope you don't mind my asking but, are you ever lonely out here, by yourself so much?'


That lovely lady with her silken mantle of silver locks blinked at the flames before her, then turned smiling to Emlyn.
  'But I am not alone, cherie...'

Em decided to leave it at that...

                        . . . .

Later, as the sun began to lower over the creamy landscape shining with a peach and golden glow beneath the slate colored clouds gathered above; as promised, Athena accompanied Emlyn over the frozen trails back to big House.

It was quiet all around them, except for the crunch of their boots in the snow. Emlyn breathed in the crisp, clear almost painful air, smelling like ice, and longed for wee Dylan's company then; a frolicking pup would have loved this winter playground.

                              

'Do you see that silverish, somewhat darker spot over between the big oak trees there, beyond where the wood ends?' Athena was pointing to a place where the snow seemed to stop, and a darker patch began; it traveled along the edge of the lighter snow drifts, and Emlyn wondered if this was the lake that Daryl had spoken of.

'That's the lake!' Athena confirmed. 'Frozen most of the winter months, it is wonderfully safe. Do you skate?'
  Emlyn laughed. 'I? A California girl? Oh, alas, no.'


Athena smiled back. 'You mean, 'not yet!'' She nodded.
'It's easy. All you need is a good stiff pair of skates.' Athena picked up the pace and Em had a time keeping up, trying to follow in her footsteps wasn't easy; Athena's Amazonian stride was rather longer than her own.


Eventually, however, they weaved their way through a grove of silent silver birch trees, crowned with tufts of white upon bare branches. Athena put an arm out, halting Em mid-step. She put a finger to her lips, and pointed --
  There, looking like something from a picture book to Em's western gaze, sat a vision come to life: a scarlet Cardinal sitting upon a tree branch, unconcerned with either snow or human.
   Em was duly enthralled.
   Athena turned and smiled and continued on their way; the bird did the same in the opposite direction.


                             

   'We're there,' she announced, and so it was; back at the great House, Em could find but little trace of the sport she and Daryl had stirred up in the snow upon their arrival but hours ago.


   'Red sky at night...' Athena studied the massing dark clouds now lowering upon the last rays of the sunset. 'There will be a snowstorm tonight!' She grinned in anticipation.


Emlyn remembered Athena's fondness for storms. 'Athena Stormcrow!' She teased her, thinking in Tolkien terms.
  The elder woman laughed aloud. 'Right you are, little elf!' And putting an arm about Em, they trudged up the row of snowy steps to the front portico.


  'Do stay with us here tonight, Athena? We would so welcome more of your company. I know Daryl would...it has been a long time, for us, you see.' Em felt renewed and refreshed by Athena's gentle serene presence; she welcomed her here as a buffer against Daryl's mercurial moods.


'We'll see...' Athena replied, noncommittally. She released Emlyn then and turned about, scanning the grounds they had traveled.
   Em glanced the way her older sister was looking and bethought she detected a flash of silver in the sky.

'Go on in, won't you, Em? I will follow in a moment, yes?' Athena nodded, and began to descend the steps, heading back toward the birch grove.

'Don't be long!' Em called. Athena held up an arm and waved, but did not turn around as she glided back the way they had come.

Emlyn gained the big front doors and was about to enter, when something made her turn again, to see if she could still find Athena, curious as to what had given her friend pause...

To her surprise, she caught that same flash of silver now beyond the birch grove, amongst the tops of the evergreen forest they had trekked though en route.
   Straining to see, she could barely discern in the distance, a moving figure that was surely Athena...and, incredibly, coming to meet her, Someone Else.


Someone Else, indeed, no mistake there; for whoever it was coming alongside her friend, was a giant of a figure...at least 7 feet tall...
   Emlyn caught a glint of gold in the long locks of the giant who had dared the silent frozen realm of Daryl's secret fortress.
   Viking invaders? Odin himself, perhaps?


Something about that figure seemed oddly familiar to Emlyn, in the strictest sense. Athena's silver hair,  beside the tall man's long golden locks, gleamed in the last flash of setting sun.
  A name came to her then, to tag this chimera --    Axelis.
  Her father.
  Or, at least, one of them...

                              

                       . . . .


WATCH AND LISTEN!
Great White Cold
Hanover Winter Song - Dartmouth Aires

Words by Richard Hovey (1864-1900), 1898

Music by Frederic Field Bullard (1864-1904), 1898
MP3 (copyright 1994-1995 Dartmouth College)

Both were 1885 graduates of Dartmouth College, Hanover, New Hampshire

Ho, a song by the fire;
Pass the pipes, pass the bowl.
Ho, a song by the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Ho, a song by the fire;
Pass the pipes with a skoal,
For the wolf-wind is wailing at the doorways,
And the snow drifts deep along the road,
And the ice gnomes are marching from their Norways,
And the great white cold walks abroad.


But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship,
Of fellowship


Pile the logs on the fire;
Fill the pipes, pass the bowl.
Pile the logs on the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Pile the logs on the fire;
Fill the pipes with a skoal,
For the fire goblins flicker on the ceiling,
And the wine witch glitters in the glass,
And the smoke wraiths are drifting, curling, reeling,
And the sleigh bells jingle as they pass.


But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship,
Of fellowship


Oh, a God is the fire;
Pull the pipes, drain the bowl.
Oh, a God is the fire
With a skoal, with a skoal.
Oh, a God is the fire;
Pull the pipes with a skoal,
For the room has a spirit in the embers,
Tis a God and our fathers knew his name,
And they worship'd him in long-forgot Decembers,
And their hearts leap'd high with the flame.

Chapter 11 - A Mid-Winter's Quest

Chapter 11 - A Mid-Winter's Quest


The Damsels of the Wells


..::The kingdom turned to loss, the land was dead and desert so that it was scarcely worth two hazel nuts. For they had lost the voices of the wells and the damsels that lived therein.

For no less a thing was the service they gave than this - that if anyone wandered that way, whether at evening or morning, rather than that he should go far out of his way for food and drink, he should find his way to the wells, and then no better could he ask but that he received it at once. For straightway a damsel issued forth from the well, none fairer need he seek, bearing in her hand a Cup of gold...and right fair welcome he received at the well.

And then, King Amangons, who was evil and craven hearted, was the first to break the custom, for thereafter many took their lead from this king, whose duty it was to protect the damsels and to maintain and guard them within his peace.

But he forced one of the damsels, and carried off from her the Cup of gold she had, and ever after caused himself to be served from it daily...

Thereafter the damsel never served anyone else who came there in search of food.  And all the other damsels only served in such a way that they were invisible to all.


In such a way was the Kingdom laid waste that from thenceforward was no tree leafy.  The meadows and flowers dere dried up and the waters were shrunken, and no man might then find the Court of the Rich Fisherman, which was wont to make within the land a glittering glory of gold and silver, ermine and minaver, rich palls of sendal, meats and stuffs, falcons gentle and merlins and tercels and sparrow hawks and falcons peregrine::..


--Elucidation de l'hystoire du Graal
Old French, dated early 1200s




                         

                  Well-Dressing Hayfield Derbyshire
                     . . . .


The road back to the City proved fairly fog-free, once they had shown the Village their heels.  
  

Emlyn and Daryl sat pensively, occasionally glancing out from the windows, not trusting the road; knowing that, on occasion, no matter which way they were headed, they sometimes wound up OtherWhere.
 

Neither said a word for several minutes. Emlyn stared at the great emerald upon her left hand now, twisting it, worrying it, biting her lip, and staring out the coach window at the familiar scenery, which now seemed as strange as fairyland...and yet, she knew that at the end, they would find the City, unchanged by their adventures. The same folk there they had always known; Rosa, the Leeks, Jethro.
...Jack.

Daryl frowned out at the world as it roved by his window. So much needed to be said, but where to begin?

'Daryl--' Em began, on top of Daryl's:
'Emlyn, I,--' He smiled. 'You, first.'

'Daryl,' Emlyn wasn't sure quite how to put things, knowing that her...fiance, had been keeping some important truths from her, but, also that perhaps, she had kept some from him as well.
  'Do you not think it rather odd that we...rather suddenly...became engaged?'

Daryl's frown deepened. 'No, Em...not really.' He ran a hand through his disheveled dark locks. 'It seemed, only right...after, well; we cannot dismiss what had just happened...between Diego and Josephina.'

'No...I do not mean to do that.' Emlyn agreed with the sentiment, as far as that went, 'but, a sudden engagement! Daryl...Josephina and Diego were very close, I know, but we, Daryl, you and I...there is so much we do not know about one another. Diego is an open book, compared to you, Daryl. And,' Em paused, 'I have known you longer.' She let that sink in.

Daryl looked at his hands, flexed them within his leather gloves, and sighed.  'Yes, I suppose this is true...' He took Em's hand. 'Do you regret the engagement, Josephina?'

'I do not regret the feelings in which the offer was made, or accepted. I still feel the same...but, Daryl, it is too soon, for us both, I feel!' She twisted the ring.
   'No, Emlyn...' Daryl reached for her hand, stopped it. 'Please, keep the ring! You needn't wear it, but, do keep it safe.' His eyes pleaded with her. 'And, someday, perhaps...' He looked down again, frustrated.

'Daryl, don't--!' Emlyn took his hands. 'You know I feel just as deeply as ever I have! I simply do not feel the pressing need to conform to convention as do you! Oh...let all that rest for the nonce!'


  She bent round, to gaze at him. 'If it bothers you so,' she sighed, 'we may simply leave things as they are! In public, at least! We have been living at the same address for ages now!'
  Daryl barked a laugh. '--At least since the 12th century, Em?'

'Yes. You see? So, why change?  No one within the house will go about telling tales...certainly not Manuel or Rosa. Why can we not...do as we wish? Surely, behind closed doors...' Em trailed off.
   'Those doors never remain closed long,' Daryl commented darkly. Then he sighed.
   'Yes. Alright, then. For now, it will all remain Status Quo, if you like.' He returned Emlyn's gaze. 'But it is not my preference. You know what I would wish.' He kissed her left hand.

                          

Em blushed. 'I will keep the ring, Daryl. Let us get to know one another better. So many secrets, querido! Diego and Josephina had no secrets between them...'

Daryl held her hand, and stared at passing scenes...the were coming upon more populated areas. Back to the City, soon...
   'Secrets, yes.' He risked a glance at Em, and quirked a half-smile. 'So, who wants to go first?'

                      . . . .

'I will...' Em spoke up.
   'Ah, excellent!' Daryl seemed quite pleased suddenly. 'So, do tell: you and Mr. Orez, is it? What is the story there?'

Em frowned. 'I meant: I will, get to ask the question first!'
  Daryl smiled.
 'Oh, very well...' Em sighed. 'He is, or was, the first mate to a, good friend of mine, Captain Keithcliff. Long story short, they took my other good friends, Alice and Frank, and Lev Kopalski, to South America with them, aboard his ship.'

'Yes? All very above-board, that...why the secrecy? And, the name change?' Daryl wondered.
  'Yes, well...it's just...Mr. Orez had a certain special, facility...' How to explain it all, Em puzzled? Well, may as well simply let fly:
  'He studied Santaria and Condomble in Brazil. He, he was for many years, channeling the spirit of Frank, Alice's husband, for her.  Frank had been lost in a time-warp for, oh, decades...he, he knew my father...'
                        

                        

'Mon Dieu...' Daryl swore, in French. '--You can't mean Frank N. Stein? -- and, Alice Stein? Oh, gods, of course! Frank worked with your father on all the early time walking experiments!'
  And, probably, partly at Nob Hill House, Daryl did not add... Sacre bleu.

'Yes...' Em was not comfortable revisiting the past. It prickled at her like a goat head in the knickers.           'So, that's about it. You can imagine what a shock it was to see him now! I hadn't heard of what had become of them, in oh, many, many years now...'


   Emlyn regarded Daryl anew: 'I wonder what he was doing in our fog-enshrouded village?'
   And, what were he and Sebastiao doing tying them up and blindfolding them in some strange rite? Diosa, but it could never simply be a quiet country ride with them, could it?


'Alright, yes, I see now...' Daryl mused to himself.
  'Well, I'm glad you do, because I certainly do NOT,'
Emlyn told him, in no uncertain terms. She stared at him, waiting.

'Eh, yes, Em...' Daryl grimaced. 'I, ah...well, he, Orez, or Raimundo, is my Man In Brazil, whom I wished to contact. It was he, who, originally, had possession of the Alabastrum, as it is sometimes called...a Box, supposedly containing the anointing oil of the Magdalena.'
 Or so it was thus advertised to Daryl through ye olde grapevyne.

'He, Raimundo, originally had the Box?' Em inquired, studying Daryl closely. Ever unreadable. '...I think I see.' She lied, to put him off guard. 'And now, YOU have it, is that right?'
   Daryl nodded, looking down.
   -- Aha.

  'And now, I am supposedly made Keeper of this, and the Cup that you pilfered as well?'
  'I did not 'pilfer' anything! Gods know I paid a fortune...' Daryl stopped, too late. 'Yes, I have the, blessed things...'


'I see...' Emlyn did, now. And, she knew why she was here, on this trip, and why they had gone to the village. A joy ride in the country, it wasn't...she ought to have known. Same old Daryl...
  Why it had taken so long, (to be blindfolded and tied-up by a secret society), was the only question.


'Daryl --' She began...
'Emlyn --' He held up a hand in defense, 'You knew my profession when you came to live at Nob Hill House...'
  '-- An antiques dealer, Daryl?' Em needled him.

   Daryl merely looked at her, cocking an eyebrow,
  '-- A Magician.'

                            

                         . . . .

Emlyn looked daggers and devils at him.
  '"When I came to live at Nob Hill House?"' She repeated.

'Yes,' Daryl answered calmly. 'When you took up with me...'
   'I?!!' Em was in high dudgeon. 'When I "took up" with YOU?!! May I remind you, sir, that I was minding my own business when YOU kidnapped me and brought me to thrice-damned Nob Hill House!'

'Shh!' Daryl frowned. 'The bloody place is dam'd enough without your curses...'

'Oh, I never...this is really the limit!' Em crossed her arms and stared out the window. More signs of the City, more traffic passed, folk on bicycle and horse.
Em was wishing it were her. Oh, to be out of this and gone, far...

  Less than ever, did she wish to return to the City...
Oh, how sweetly her own wee bed called to her from the secret sanctuary of Mrs. Murphy's, back in Arcadia...
  ...Blast the man. Em looked at Daryl as though she had never seen him before. What was he doing here?


Daryl sighed again. 'Emlyn...as you may have guessed by now...I, I am sometimes, as you see me.  At others, I may be Diego. And, still, at other times...I may be myself, it is true. But, yet from another time frame. Do you see?' He looked at her, bending forward to catch her eye. Was she still angry?
  'Anyway, so it was thus, eh, that, particular unfortunate circumstance came about; I was myself and not myself; not in the same time line.'


'"And the left hand path knoweth not what the right hand doeth?"' She paraphrased sarcastically. How VERY convenient!
   Emlyn's head was beginning to ache. Again. She leaned it against the cool glass of the window.
   'I weary so of Time...' she managed to groan.

Daryl knew the feeling.

  But, now he was concerned with more recent events...    So, Orez/Raimundo had also had dealings with the Original Timeline, and the Original Timewalkers, like Emlyn's father and Frank N. Stein, husband to Alice, Em's housemate and friend...
  '...And, no doubt, they had both been at Nob Hill House during the Society's heyday...Frank and your father. Probably, some of the early experiments were worked there...'


'Are you addressing me, Diego?' Emlyn deigned to regard Daryl's mutterings aloud to himself.
  'Eh?' He noticed Em and the dark cloud threatening thunder about her. 'Ah...'
   Well, skulking about the facts hadn't helped much, best be out with it. 'No, just thinking aloud...'


   He put an arm behind Em, stroked her hair lightly. 'I do not wish for us to have secrets, cher. I want you to know me, to trust me. For a change...
  'I simply try perhaps too hard, not to upset you with things that, maybe I feel you would not be easy about.  This is truth. Trying to protect you.' Daryl coughed dryly and continued:

'...But, if you must know, well...now that I have found that the Alabastrum and the Cup are both linked to Orez, who is a companion of Frank Stein, well...it weighs somewhat on my mind...'
  'How so, Daryl?' Em inquired. She may as well ask for it, disclosure now preferable to secrecy. Secrets have a way of making themselves known. Sometimes, at the worst moments.

'Well, it's just this...Nob Hill House, as I have mentioned, was used by the Society, of which your father, and Frank, were both members. It may not be the best place to keep the, eh, Items, out of trouble...' Daryl finished, quirking an eyebrow.

Emlyn was quiet for a moment, pondering this. Daryl, NOT wanting trouble, that seemed rather contrary to his nature...especially where magic was concerned.

Each mused upon their own troubling bubbling thoughts as they watched the scenery slide by...no doubt about it, the City now loomed ahead, back to the real world. (Such as it ever was, with them.)
  They were now upon the outskirts of town proper, small shops and restaurants were in evidence.
  'We shall be there soon...' Daryl muttered, looking ill at ease.
   Em had the same thought. She simply looked ill.


And, indeed, it seemed no time at all until Manuel brought them around Nob Hill and into the stable yard in back of the House.
   'I'll just help Manuel load in the items from Sebastiao's shop then meet you inside, alright?'
Daryl held Em's hand, helping her from the coach.
   'Eh, some coffee for us all, I think? I'm in need of sommat bracing...' He looked around the place as if he'd never seen it before and found it rather much.


'As am I...' Emlyn frowned, bewildered to be here as well. She stared up at the tall, somewhat slender Victorian, not as filled-out with rooms as the neighboring homes, but, in it's spare white, with black and red trim, the house seemed rather like a dapper man in evening clothes, standing beside his neighbors, all blowsy matrons in pastel, full skirted gowns.
 

Leaving the men to their unloading, Emlyn approached up the back steps which led into the kitchen. Rosa was not present, but signs of her remained: fresh baked bread cooled upon the countertop and a pot of something redolent of herbs and vegetables sat warm upon the stove.
  

Emlyn removed her coat and things to the hallway, and began heating water for coffee, like an automaton. She glanced about her, as if seeing the place for the first time.
  -- It all seemed so...odd.

Having spent so much time away; first, back to Villa Encantata, and then to the Portuguese village...what was the name of the place, anyway? The Inn of Sopa and Fog, is all Em knew of it...
   The water began to boil, and Em took hold of the kettle, her new ring clinked against the enamel...reminding her.
   She had not been wearing this, when they had left here so innocently...or had it been innocent?

Pouring hot water into the French press, she decided that although SHE had been so, Daryl certainly had known better. Off again they were, to chase down some enchanted antique nuisance or other.
  -- As per usual, with Daryl.

Speaking of an antique nuisance...
   Em could hear Daryl's footsteps echoing up from the basement stairs across from the kitchen.


'Coffee is nearly ready...' She told him automatically,
as she seated herself at her perch upon a tall stool at the counter.
   'Good. I shall need it...' He ran a hand through his hair, and poured. 'Shall I pour for you?' Receiving no answer, he did anyway, and handed her a cup, adding creme to both, as usual.
   ' -- Cara?'

'Gracias...' Em responded, looking down, not wishing to meet his gaze.

                             

 

 

  Seeing him now, here...without others about, in this house of secrets, she felt suddenly as though he was  some handsome stranger she had only heard rumor of...

Daryl caught something of her mood. He seated himself below her, at the worn oaken kitchen table and looked about, rather wonderingly, himself.
  'Seems odd to be here,' he remarked, sipping hot coffee.

'Yes. It does.' Em rather wished Rosa had been about.
   'Does it bother you, querida? Being here?' Daryl asked, 'Especially, after all this...seeing Orez again, and well, thinking about Frank and your father having spent time here, in this house...'


'I, hadn't really thought about it, not too deeply,' Em answered. Actually, she hadn't wanted to think about it. She sighed.
   'It's just, odd, that's all...' she came down from her perch on high, coasted about the room.
  'Seems so strange, somehow...sunny, here now...not at all like Winter Solstice, you know?' She paused at the kitchen window, sipping coffee. 'It will probably turn spring before you know it...' Time, again. Blast it.

Em regarded him, 'Until we were, you know, caught there in the village, in all the fog...there was something about the place, that I actually liked. I was even enjoying the fog. It is nice, occasionally, to feel as though one is having a real sort of winter.'

Daryl grinned over his coffee. 'Not in California, cher...'
  'No-o...not here...' She sounded rather regretful. 'Especially now. Drought for too many years, Daryl! Oh, it wearies me... Everything is electric! High-strung, nothing soothes...'


Daryl stood, and, taking heart from caffeine, stood behind her, and put his arms about her, leaning his head over her shoulder.  'I could...bring in some fog, just for us...'
   Em smiled at last, and touched his cheek. 'Thank you, querido...but, no. Truly, it isn't the fog; I think I have had plenty of that!'

Daryl kissed her hair, and then moved away, pacing the room in his own panther fashion, mug in hand. 'Too bright in here! Let's take things to the parlour, eh?'

                       . . . .

Daryl took himself before the fireplace, the fire dead now, but mantlepiece still decorated with holly and greenery, cup in hand. Em curled up upon the sofa, and stroked the plaid blanket that had covered them both not long ago there...


                         

  'Hmm...I wonder...' He paused. 'Tell you what; I was thinking that perhaps this isn't the best place for keeping the Cup and Box, considering the, uh, history of this place.
  'We could, take them away from here...somewhere they, and we, would be absolutely safe. Somewhere no one can penetrate our defenses. Somewhere, we could be absolutely alone, if we wished!' He stopped, fixed her with a look.
  'Somewhere, there would be, snow...'

Emlyn returned his gaze. Their eyes locked. A fire smoldered there...

                         

  'Snow, you say? REAL snow, Daryl?'
 
'There, may be in fact, yes, real snow there now. Not uncommon, in Massachusetts.' Daryl released the proverbial Cat from the Bag...(and: Cup and Box from the Armoire).
   'Ah.' Em knew now of where he spoke. 'I thought that place knew only wind and rain, thunder and lightning...'


'...Not in winter. Winters can be, well, snowed-in, sometimes.' He hoped she might consent; it was the safest place for Cup and Box. And them.
   They could be Alone At Last.

Emlyn looked out at the bright blue sunny day without.
It most certainly did not seem like Winter Solstice.

   Daryl edged up behind her, leaned over her shoulder,  '...Think of it,' he murmured unto her ear, '...we would be alone, just we two, surrounded by soft snow. The stables even boast a sleigh...Athena keeps a horse or two, or she used. A couple of nights there, we could have our own private Solstice celebration...a real one. Real snow, real evergreen trees, the smell of pine wood...' A soft kiss upon her neck, and the deal was sealed.

'It does sound tempting, Diego...' Emlyn leaned in closer, her hand playing with Daryl's stray locks. 'I haven't seen Athena since, since she was returned, with Jack... Oh, I should like to visit with her again, at the gatehouse!'

'I had hoped that the thought of us alone together would decide things, but...' Daryl kissed her cheek, 'If Athena is your siren's call, so be it!'
   'You are wicked and a tease...' Em smacked his cheek lightly, playfully.

   'Oh, just you wait until tonight...' Daryl promised her.
  Wicked teasing was just what he had in mind...

                     . . . .

Alejandro 'Raimundo' Orez, and Sebastiao da Silva walked back to the shop directly from the Inn, after Emlyn and Daryl's hasty exit...
  

Sebastiao was still chuckling softly. 'Did you see them fly from the place as though all the devils of Hades were after them, with bibs on?' He took his key from a coat pocket and unlocked the Antiques and Curiosities Shoppe.
    'They probably thought they were,' Raimundo commented. He did not laugh.

'Ah, Volunder does have a wonderful baritone when he puts his heart into it!' The piratical antiques dealer punched in a light switch, keeping the place lit well enough to maneuver about, yet shadowed in corners.
 

'I hope I have not lost a good, paying customer in all this!' Sebastiao continued, 'But,' he sighed, 'I do agree that a lady such as your Josephina, deserves all the best in finding her mate and match.' He sighed, 'And, it is true, I would not be the most loyal of suitors...'

'It was necessary,' Raimundo answered, as they headed into the back room, while the dealer set to work making his ever-ready espresso.
  'Both for her sake, and for the sake of the Objects now entrusted to Diego.'


Orez puzzled over that one. Why the Box and Cup had chosen such as Rivera, was indeed a mystery Alejandro could not as yet fathom.
   Diego Rivera had seemed, to him, simply another San Franciscan golden gadfly with more money than experience...but, the Objects did not make mistakes, and Rivera had been Chosen.
  Probably, due to 'Josephina'...

Sebastiao pulled espresso for them both. Taking a wide-bottomed bottle from beneath the counter, he poured a splash of Armagnac into their cups.
   'Well, to a successful night's work, then! And to seal a Mid Winter Night's Bargain!'
 

Raimundo raised his cup. 'To Diego and Josephina. Long may they reign!'
   Cups were clicked together, libations swallowed. Hot coffee and liquor merged into a swelling of heat upon tongue and throat, warming the heart.

Orez hoped that the two hearts they had joined as one tonight would remain thus, steadfast and true to their promise.


                          

 

  -- Or, if they did not, he would not wish to think of the Consequences, ...

                     . . . .