King of the WoodBy Kerry BlackwellWilliam, please come home. The old ways walk these wild lands and I am alone and afraid. The trees flow down off the hills when I'm not looking and circle around the cottage -- closing me in, watching me, endless and patient. There are eyes in the hedgerow and rustlings in the grass and I know there is something out there, waiting for me. Something old and ancient and beyond my mortal understanding. I walked in the wood today, in the sunshine and stillness, with Lucy frolicking at my side. She chased the birds and barked at the butterflies and dashed this way and that, exploring with happy, canine enthusiasm. But then it grew a little more still before a breeze blew up and she came back to me and brushed against my legs and shivered. There's another world out there, just hiding beyond human sight. It's lurking behind the trees, waiting behind the air, needing just a nudge, a shimmer and a change to break through into our solid, practical reality. It's light and music and grace and unknowable age just resting beyond the veil of today and something there is watching me, patiently and unwaveringly. William, please come home. I don't want to stay here, without you, waiting for the watcher to come and find me and judge me and take me with him. To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: When are you coming home? Date: 22:31:35 GMT April 23 1998 Dear Bill, The subject line says it all, I guess. It's lonely out here on my own - sometimes I feel like I'm all alone in the middle ages. The forest seems to press in on me and I forget there's a town over the hill with a cinema multiplex and an Internet cafe. Whatever happened to the big cities and bright lights you promised me when we got married? I know your uncle left you the cottage and I know we can't afford anything else right now, not with all my medical bills, but... Oh, I'm being silly. You always said I let my imagination get the better of me, didn't you? I miss you, Bill. Lucy misses you too. Come home soon. Love Ally William, what's happening to me? I walked amongst the trees today and I met the King of the Wood. I stepped out of the shade and there he was, on the other side of the clearing. He was seated on the soft grass, his back resting against the bark of a tall tree, one long leg stretched out in front of him, the other flat-footed on the ground so that he could rest one hand on his bent knee. His trousers were golden-brown, the colour of ripe wheat at harvest-time, and his boots were made of polished leather, turned over in a pointed cuff halfway up his calves. He wore a soft grey shirt that fell from his shoulders in loose folds. It had drawn string cuffs that made it fall over his hands, hiding his wrists and leaving only his long, fine fingers visible, and laces at the front that were loose and undone, showing the fine, sharp lines of his neck and collarbones. There was a pattern that writhed and twisted down the sleeves and around the hem, picked out with gold braid and touched with flashes of crimson and green and blue. His head was half-turned away from me, so that I could barely see his face. Just the fall of his hair to his shoulders, chestnut-brown and catching the light from the sun, and the angles of his cheekbones, nose and jaw, covered by smooth, pale skin. And he was surrounded by animals. The creatures of the forest had gathered, as if to pay court to him. A cheeky-looking fox cub with bright black eyes was draped over one of his legs, its bushy red tail brushing the toes of his boots. A dappled stag stood behind him, its antlers near brushing the leaves above it, and there were all the other dwellers of the forest gathered around -- a wolf with a shaggy grey pelt, a badger, its face black-and-white striped, and the small ones of the forest, the dormice and the hedgehogs and the others small and rarely seen. And all the while the birds clustered about him, a small few dropping down to land upon his shoulder, the others settling in the branches above his head. As I was about to turn and hurry away, sorry I had intruded upon his solitude, he turned his head and looked at me and smiled. William, what's happening to me? Am I seeing something that isn't there or have I suddenly learned to look beyond and see things as they truly are? To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: Painting... Date: 17:58:35 GMT April 29 1998 Dear Bill, I thought about painting today. I've got this idea, all very ancient and pagan, based on what it must have been like around here way back when, before the missionaries came from the continent to try to Christianise the Celts. It just came to me, out of the wood and the grass and the way the sun fell, the way it used to be before the accident. I didn't do anything about it, I admit. The back room is still just a room full of unpacked boxes, and I don't think I'll be starting on turning it into a studio today, but I _did_ think about it, and just for a moment, the passion and the inspiration were there. Then they disappeared again, leaving me cold and heavy. But it's a start. And the doctors did say I'd have to start again small, didn't they? Maybe it's going to get better. Maybe. Will you make it back next week like you hoped? I thought they'd promised you there would be no more long trips away like this one. Did you hear back about the position with Memrad? I thought you said it would let you work at home instead of being a global traveller. That would be nice. Lucy and I miss you. Love Ally William, the world is changing. I went back to the clearing today, telling myself only that I was taking Lucy for a walk and never admitting I was hoping to find him there. At first, I thought it was empty, and I was surprised by the way my heart grew heavy within me. But then Lucy barked and I looked down to see her standing stiffly beside me, all her attention focused on the other side of the empty glade. And I looked up to see a movement in the air, a flicker of grey-clad arm and flash of polished boot leg. We followed that never-solid ghost through trees, Lucy and I, and while we could never quite catch it, neither did it ever actually leave us behind, lost and unfulfilled and feeling stupid. At last, we staggered to a halt beside a fallen oak tree, both of us panting and exhausted. I leaned on the rough trunk, trying to catch my breath, and when I looked up again there he was, watching me from the other side of the tree. He was holding something in his arms, cradling it gently, and I stood up again, to better see what it might be. It was a bird, one wing folded in an awkward, broken angle. As I watched, its laboured breathing stopped and he brushed one hand gently across its soft feathers, his head bowed. He stood that way for a moment, then he stooped and placed the bird on the ground. He snapped his fingers once, the sound loud and sharp, and Lucy paced forward obediently and sank down at his feet. He ran his hand along the length of her back, a smooth stroke that made her shiver happily, and stepped away. I looked up at his face and he smiled and nodded and was gone, leaving me standing staring at the empty place where he had been and Lucy contentedly devouring the bird he had given her. William, the world is changing. I can no longer tell what is real and what is not, and I am not sure that I care. To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: That damn dog! Date: 16:07:35 GMT May 2 1998 Dear Bill, I swear, Lucy is going to poison herself one day. I took her for a walk in the wood and everything seemed fine until she suddenly started barking like crazy and went racing off after something. I chased her, shouting at her to stop, but she just kept on going. I was going to leave her to it, but I was afraid she'd get lost so I went haring after her instead. She lead me a real dance through the trees and I finally caught up with her to find her happily devouring some poor dead bird. I don't know where it came from and I was terrified it would make her sick. Still, she hasn't thrown up yet and the exercise probably did me the world of good. Dr Collins keeps telling me I should exercise more and doesn't seem to think taking Lucy for walks really qualifies, not even when I tell him how far we go each day. Anyway, see you tomorrow at the airport. I can't wait. Love Ally To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: Back from the airport Date: 11:22:35 GMT May 27 1998 Dear Bill, I'm home safely. I don't know why you always get me to tell you that. You're the one who spends your life flying around Europe. I just stay at home. I miss you already -- but I always say that, don't I? Now don't worry about me -- I'm not going to do anything silly, I shan't wander off into the wood and never return (Lucy would never forgive me if she missed a meal!), and yes, I'll take the pills like a good girl. I always do. I might even start unpacking the back room. Love Ally William, I have seen wonders. I followed the fox cub through the trees, from the clearing, on deeper into the woods. At length it stopped, turned its head to look at me and sat down, curling its tail around its legs, clearing expecting me to step forward past it. Ahead of me I could hear music and voices and laughter, and I walked forward hesitantly, unsure of what I would find and what my welcome might be. It took my breath away, a sight more beautiful that any I have ever seen before or ever will again. The king was seated in splendour at the base of a giant oak tree and around him his court was gathered. The women were tall, and lithe, and beautiful, only their eyes -- green and wise and knowing -- showing me that they, like their king, were not truly human. Their gowns, shaded in green and blue and red and gold, fell softly from their smooth, white shoulders and swirled about their bare feet as if they had a life of their own. The talked and laughed and danced, and I watched from the shadows in awe and wonder and felt heavy and solid and mortal. The men were more than handsome, if still not so handsome as their king, unusually tall with long, flowing hair and drooping moustaches. They wore trousers or leggings or baggy pants, all with the same air of style and grace that mortal men could never hope to match. Their shirts were of all colours, embellished with braid and stitching in swirling patterns it was impossible for the eye to follow and their feet, too, were bare. They gathered in groups to talk among themselves and danced and laughed, a wondrous, otherworldly sight that near brought tears to my eyes. Caught by the vision in front of me, I did not see that the king had left his place under the oak until I found him standing at my side. His raised one hand and cupped it around my cheek and chin and I shivered under his touch. He smiled at me, a smile that sparkled in his eyes as it curved his mouth, and I was still, gentled as he might calm a startled deer or a frightened bird. He dropped his fingers from my face, brushing them down my cheek and across my shoulder, then he took my hand in his and drew me forward into the magic. William I have seen wonders. A world beyond our world that is all light and colour and air and beauty -- the things that touch the heart and uplift the soul.
To: billd@skychem.co.uk
From: allyson@cnet.co.uk
Subject: Dreaming my life away
Date: 23:41:35 GMT May 28 1998
Dear Bill,
I've just been and fed Lucy and I thought
I'd drop you a note. I got back from
seeing Dr Collins about lunchtime. He says
everything's going as well as he
expects, don't be impatient ("You
suffered an enormous trauma,
dear, be patient" -- you know how he
says it) and I'll be good as new given
time. In other words, the same as
always, but I _do_ feel better, so
maybe I'll get there one day.
I was going to go for a walk after
lunch, but I must have dozed off --
you know how tired seeing the
doctor makes me. About half an
hour ago I found Lucy scratching
at the door and was surprised to
see it was dark outside. I was even more
surprised when I looked at the time.
But it was worth it, darling. I've got
all these pictures in my head --
I could paint a whole series. They
just don't quite seem to be ready to
leave my head and get onto the canvas.
But they will be -- just you wait and
see. One day I'll surprise you.
I miss you. Lucy is too busy scoffing
her dinner to comment.
Love Ally
William, I'm sorry. I went alone into the wood today, leaving Lucy sleeping in the sun beside the garden wall. I did not go looking for him, but he found me anyway. I stepped through the trees into the clearing and there he was, standing on the other side of the grass with the fox cub sitting at his feet. I hesitated, knowing I was not made of the same stuff as him, clay and ash to his mist and moonlight. But he raised a hand and beckoned me forward and I found myself walking towards him, moving to his will and not my own. He walked forward himself, the fox cub trotting at his heels, and as we met in the middle of the clearing I stumbled to a halt, feeling weak and stupid and very, very mortal. He smiled at me, a smile that lit the sky and warmed the soul, and told me I was strong. That I was art and passion and beauty and strength. And I looked at the ground, knowing I was broken. He put his fingers -- long and lean and elegant -- under my chin and tilted my face up to look into his eyes. And he shook his head and convinced me otherwise without a word spoken. He cupped his hands gently and pulled me closer, bending his head until his lips almost touched mine and his eyes were level with my own. His were eyes that I could drown in, lost forever in their everlasting, silken depths. Then his hands slipped downwards to my shoulders, pushing back the silk of my shirt and pulling me down with him onto the soft, smooth grass. As his lips touched to mine, the world narrowed to only him and the last thing I saw was the fox cub, crinkling its little velvet nose at me and slipping away, leaving us alone in the clearing. I could drown in him, lost forever in the touch of him, the sound of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him within me and me lost within the heart of him. William, I'm sorry. I am growing whole again, patched together by the look in his eyes and the touch of his hands on my skin and I am truly sorry. To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: I miss you Date: 7:12:35 GMT June 1 1998 Dear Bill, I just wanted to say hello. Are you thinking of me? I was sitting by the kitchen window this morning, looking out at the trees and the next thing I knew it was after lunchtime and I was still there, thinking of you. 10 days seems an awfully long time until I see you again. I love you and I miss you. Love Ally To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: Back from the airport Date: 11:35:35 GMT July 4 1998 Dear Bill, Reporting in after another successful dispatch of my husband off on his travels. Just think, if they officially offer you the Memrad position, this'll be the last time. I bumped into Laura Penders after I saw you off and she told me there's been a stomach bug going through the village. She figures that probably where I got mine. I go back to Dr Collins for my 6-week check on Thursday, so if I'm still feeling a bit queasy, I'll mention it to him. He's going to be so astounded by my progress, I just know he is. I think I might even take him the little sketch of the fox, just to show him I did it. I think that's going to be my small beginning. Missing you already, Love Ally William, the world is beautiful. I walked in the wood again today, one last time looking for my king. It is coming high summer now and the grass was lush and soft, little flowers of blue and white peeping though the green. The swallows darted and dove above me and Lucy chased fruitlessly after them as they teased and tempted her, gliding out of the sky to peck at her nose and soaring away again laughing merrily at her frustration. The world was balanced around me, everything in its place as it was supposed to be and I was a part of it, relaxed and happy and passionate about life. I knelt in the grass, feeling it rough against my ankles, and Lucy came loping over to me, her tongue lolling, her doggy eyes happy. I laughed and scratched her ears, and when I looked up he was standing there under the trees, watching me and smiling. There was all of history and every tomorrow in his eyes, but their depths were hidden from me, a place I no longer needed nor was permitted to go. He bowed to me, a beautiful and courtly movement from an age long passed in the mortal world, and turned and walked away from me, fading easily into the colours of his wood. William, the world is beautiful. I can see it again, with a painter's eye and a joyful soul and I do not believe I will ever lose sight of that beauty again, come what may. To: billd@skychem.co.uk From: allyson@cnet.co.uk Subject: Are you sitting down? Date: 15:12:35 GMT July 16 1998 Dearest, darlingest Bill, Dr Collins confirmed it today! I'm PREGNANT! That's right -- we're going to be parents! I'll call you in a couple of hours, when I know you'll be in the hotel, but I just had to write straight away to tell you. I told him about my upset stomach when I saw him last week and he looked me over in that careful way he has, asked a bunch more questions, then said he had an alternative theory. :-) He says it probably happened when you came home at the beginning of June. We certainly did have a passionate reunion, didn't we? I think I'm still in shock myself, but it's weird. It's almost like everything's fallen back into focus. I found myself in the studio today, with itchy painting fingers and started unpacking boxes. I'm going to be painting again. I just _know_ it now. I've got the whole 'King of the Wood' series in my head now and it's suddenly started _demanding_ to be put on canvas. This place has inspired me and helped me find myself again -- the person I thought the accident had taken away forever. Forget what I said about selling the cottage. I've found I like it here -- it's calm and peaceful and ancient and still and I want to stay and I want the baby to grow up here. I just want _you_ to be here a bit more often. Hooray for the guys at Memrad and their wonderful job offer. Anyway, we can talk about it properly tonight when I call. Love Ally (still walking on air) and baby |