Chapter 9: The Beast that Pulled the Cart
The next day Ramana was in her painting room, sitting on a stool with a canvas and easel before her. By her side Amaia sat, on a smaller stool made just for her, with a smaller canvas and easel before her. The mess from the fight the previous day had mostly been cleaned up, and there was very little left to paint with.
Ramana glanced beside her to Amaia’s canvas, where there was painting of a flying horse with a rainbow mane and tail, with fluffy white clouds behind it.
‘That’s very pretty’ Ramana told her daughter.
Amaia grinned up at her mother, and Ramana returned to her own canvas, a dramatic painting of a fork of lighting in a red sky, a black city silhouetted in the foreground. Ramana dipped her finger again in the paint. She never used brushes, but always painted with her fingers, she felt freer that way.
‘What’s that sound?’ she asked suddenly, tilting her head.
‘I hear it too’ Amaia said, putting her brush down and hoping over to the window, leaning on the sill and gazing outwards. ‘It’s coming from the town. We should go and see what it is.’
When they reached the centre of their small town, they saw a strange sight indeed.
A cart, pulled by the most bizarre creature, and one that Ramana had never seen before, had stopped beside the well. A small crowd of people had gathered to watch and stare at the strange wailing figure, moving around the cart and throwing their hands to the air in despair. Ramana noticed then that that one of the cart’s wheels was broken, though she did not know what could have broken it here in this town where the roads were smooth. She moved her attention towards the wailing figure, moving around the cart, always hunched over. The figure wore a strange mask beneath the hooded robe.
Amaia peered around her mother’s legs to see the spectacle, deciding she didn’t like what she saw, and retreating back to hide behind Ramana again.
Ramana glanced around her at the people, seeing that none were stepping forward to help, and so she did.
‘No’ Amaia cried in vain, pulling at her mother’s skirt as Ramana stepped forward. But Ramana ignored her.
‘Hello’ Ramana spoke to the figure.
The figure in the deep purple, near-black robe immediately ceased their wailing, turning to Ramana.
‘Oh’ the figure spoke in a female voice. ‘It’s you. What a coincidence.’
She straightened suddenly, destroying Ramana’s initial thoughts of this being an old and fragile person. The figure touched her hand to her plague mask, and removed it. Beneath the long beaked dark mask, was the most beautiful face Ramana had ever seen. Large bright eyes, perfect hair and lips and skin like silk. It was almost…too perfect to look at.
‘I’m sorry’ Ramana said. ‘Do I know you?’
‘Oh’ the woman said, suddenly looking uncertain, as if she had just accidentally slipped a secret she shouldn’t have done. ‘I mean….no. Of course not.’ She smiled a wide smile, with perfect teeth.
The woman stared at Ramana deeply, making her feel a little uncomfortable.
‘What’s your name?’ Ramana asked. ‘You’re not local are you?’
The perfect woman chuckled under her breath at this. Though Ramana could not think of what was so funny.
‘No’ the perfect woman said, her laughter gradually subsiding. ’I am not from around here. I live far away. If live is what you could call it. I live further away from here than you could possibly imagine.’
‘And…’ Ramana went on. ‘What is your name?’
‘Oh I wouldn’t concern yourself with such things. Not just yet anyway. Just think of me as…the woman who passed through your town. Though I think in time, we might be very good friends indeed.’
Ramana’s eyes drifted to the beast that stood at the head of the small cart.
‘Such a strange creature’ she said. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it….what is it?’
‘This?’ the woman who was passing through the town said. ‘This is a hippogriff.’
‘I’ve never heard of one of those before.’
‘No of course you haven’t’ the perfect woman gleamed, hiding her grin behind her hands as if she was enjoying a private joke that Ramana wouldn’t understand.
‘It’s really beautiful’ Ramana said, admiring its white coat that seemed to glow in the sunlight. The edges of its feathers were line in black, and its feet were covered in thick fur.
‘It’s such a shame’ the perfect woman spoke suddenly, ‘for a beauty such as yours to be hidden away like this. You could do great things.’
‘Oh?’ Ramana said, clearly not understanding her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Tell me’ the perfect woman replied. ‘Have you ever longed for power?’
‘Power?’ Ramana blinked in confusion. ‘I……no.’
‘Well’ the perfect woman smiled. ‘There is much in life that changes.’ She giggled. ‘I was wondering if you could help me’ she said suddenly changing the subject. ‘My cart is broken. Could you help me fix it?’
‘Of course’ Ramana beamed.
As they set to work fixing the cart, Amaia crept out from behind her mother, walking around to stand before the strange hippogriff. It was big, but unlike that horrid creature Alastor, seemed to be calmer. It didn’t try to follow her like that black horse did. It just stood there, ignoring her. But still, she dared not touch it.
It was a long while before Ramana and the stranger were finished, and the cart was finally fixed. But the stranger was still not satisfied.
‘This new wheel looks lovely’ she said unconvinced, ‘but it needs a bit of colour.’
‘I have paints at home’ Ramana offered. ‘We could use them.’
‘What a wonderful idea!’
Ramana hurried home to get the last paints she had. It took a long while to fix the wheel, though it took longer still to paint the already heavily decorated cart to the stranger’s satisfaction. But when it was at last finished, she looked pleased.
‘Oh. Hello Farrell’ the perfect woman said suddenly as he approached from nowhere. He had finished his soldiers duties and had wandered from home to find his wife and daughter. ‘It’s nice to see you in person.’ The perfect woman smiled.
‘Who are you?’ Farrell answered back with immediate suspicion.
‘How do you know his name?’ Ramana asked the perfect woman.
‘You told me’ she quickly replied.
‘No I didn’t.’
‘Oh’ the perfect woman said, though she did not seem to be surprised at this. ‘You must have done. Anyway’ she said turning away. ’I thank you for your help. I’m sure we will meet again. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe years from now. But we will meet again. And I will look forward to it.’
Ramana watched silently as the perfect woman slowly led her hippogriff away, pulling with it the now fixed cart.
‘Goodbye Ramana’ she spoke back. ‘May the gods be with you.’
‘Gods’ Farrell scoffed. ‘What a load of rubbish.’
‘Now husband’ Ramana frowned as the stranger moved further away, replacing on her face the plague mask. ‘You must be respectful of other people beliefs, even if you do not share them.’
‘Why?’
‘Because’ she answered simply. ’They just might be true.’
The two watched the figure walk away, leading the beast that pulled the cart.
‘Strange woman’ Farrell mumbled.
‘She looks like a traveller’ Ramana added. ‘A foreigner. She would seem strange to us.’
‘And what a strange creature she had’ he went on.
‘It certainly was’ Ramana nodded.
Amaia suddenly appeared from her hiding place, running to her mother and hugging her. She felt safer now, once the strange woman and her strange pet were out of sight.
Arlen appeared then, he had been one of the many in the crowd that had watched the hooded woman and her cart.
‘Well’ he said to Farrell. ‘That wasn’t weird’ he said sarcastically.
‘Arlen’ Farrell said. ‘Where were you?’
Arlen and Ramana shared a brief glance, just for a moment, before Ramana went off with her daughter, leaving Farrell with his brother though still remaining in sight.
‘How are you then Arlen?’ Farrell asked him. ‘How are you keeping up?’
‘Well enough’ Arlen shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Yourself?’
And so they spoke together for a short time, catching up on days gone by.
‘I’ve been so busy lately’ Farrell said. ‘I think perhaps we should have a drink together sometime.’
‘You know I don’t drink’ Arlen told him, waving away the idea.
‘Well I’m certainly not hanging out with you at the temple’ Farrell joked.
Farrell glanced over towards his wife then. He noticed she was grabbing Amaia by her shoulders, shaking her roughly and speaking harshly. He frowned, leaving his brother’s side and mumbling his excuses, he made his way towards them.
‘What’s wrong?’ Farrell asked as he approached them.
Ramana released Amaia, turning to face him.
‘Nothing’ Ramana replied sternly, glaring at her daughter who shrank uncertainly under her mother’s gaze. ‘I was just teaching Amaia a very valuable lesson.’
Farrell shrugged this off, and continued. ‘Look Amaia’ he said, kneeling as he produced an item hidden on his person.
Amaia glowed at the sight of it.
‘It’s a little man’ Farrell explained, dancing it through the air to demonstrate. ‘We could make more of them together if you like.’
Amaia snatched it from him greedily, but Farrell did not tell her off for this. Amaia stared wide eyed down at the little toy man made of straw and twig.
‘We could make a whole town’ Amaia said.
‘I’ve just had a good idea’ Farrell said enthusiastically at her thought. ’We could make this town, with all the people that you know, and the buildings. And we could make little mini fences for the fields.’
‘And we could make your scary horse too’ Amaia said bouncing up and down excitedly. ‘I’m so happy! Could you help me make them? Pleeeeeze!’
‘Of course’ Farrell replied, glowing with pride. ‘My daughter. Our precious treasure.’ He placed a hand upon her head. ‘I am so proud of you’ he said warmly, the edges of his eyes crinkling. ‘You’re a good girl, you know that?’
Amaia giggled at this, bouncing forwards and hugging her father around his neck.
‘Mother?’ she said looking around, still hanging onto Farrell’s neck. Do you want to play with us?’
Ramana watched the pair for a moment, turning away with a smirk. ‘Oh you two’ she chuckled.
Farrell rose to a stand, Amaia still not letting go hung from around his neck.
Ramana glanced back at them. ‘You two run along and have fun, I will stay here.’
‘Are you sure you don’t want to join us?’ Farrell asked looking dejected.
‘You two need time alone together sometimes’ Ramana explained. ‘Who knows when you will be called away again’ she spoke to Farrell. ’To your duties. I’m sure you don’t want me to cramp your space all the time.’
She blew a kiss to both of them, then turned and glided away before Farrell could argue.
She sighed happily as she pranced away, holding her hands to her chest, feeling her heart swell with joy. But something made her pause for a moment as she walked by. Arlen stood near her now, watching her with a strange look in his eyes.
She hesitated for a moment, not realising at first that he had been there.
She smiled warmly to him, and carried on walking.