ering
Cecelia Smith
Copyright Cecelia Smith
The Gathering
She Who Need Not Be Told looked carefully at all the activity around her and smiled. It is said, by those who know, she has the most understanding smile anywhere. The time appointed for the Gathering was at hand. She must notify She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken. It is also said that She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken knows the hour of the Gathering. Nevertheless, it was her duty to notify her that the Gathering which would change everything was now. She would fulfill her duty. That was the law.
Marita, who held the ancient office of She Who Need Not Be Told, sang the call, a rippling sound which caused all activity to stop and everyone to listen instantly. She sang again a long, sustained note which gave the invitation to prepare for the big event. The playful activity of her court immediately changed to one of purpose and preparation. The long awaited Gathering was about to begin and each member of Marita’s court knew exactly what their particular function was. It seemed that in an instant the court was changed from one of playful fun to one of purposeful preparation. Marita rose from her seat in one flowing movement, her majestic robes of shimmering fabric with all the colors of the rainbow shone around her. To those in the far corners of the court she did resemble a rainbow, or did her graceful flowing robes changed her into a butterfly with rainbows streaming from her gracious figure. They were not sure.
The throng in her court parted on cue to form an aisle as she seemed to float to the door on her way to the domain of She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken. Three were the number of the ones whose duty was to manage the Gathering. One was the number who would attend without being told. After she informed She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken, then together they would go to the court of the Silent One, then all three would travel to the place of the Gathering for the great event.
Marita knew exactly what she was feeling. It was almost a new feeling. A tingle, an anticipation, an excitement and almost the urge to hurry. Hurry is not a tool she needed now, so she laid it aside and moved with calm excitement to the edge of her domain where she knew the Opposers would do their duty and attempt to delay or detain her. This part of the well planned event had to be. The Opposers appear unpleasant, but their work was also a part of the grand plan leading up to the Gathering, and must be done. Their work was also the law. They would do all they could to delay or divert her as she crossed their domain, which she had to do to reach the domain of She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken. They were almost fair and as the rules state they had to remain in their own domain, but they were clever and would set traps at both boarders. She had held the office of She Who Need Not Be Told for an eternity and was aware of all the plans and schemes of the Opposers. In fairness to them she refused the specifics of their plans and recognized only the bare outlines. This would make their work more interesting for them. The folk from her domain would not cross the boarder with her. This she must do alone.
In her own domain all along the path to the boarder, she met folk intent on doing the work of preparation for the Gathering. There was music everywhere as songs were the main tools the folk used to do their work. They danced and greeted her with welcoming songs as she passed by. It is not often that she walked about the domain. But each one knew where she was going and why. Often on her journey to the boarder a few folk would leave their task and walk with her for a while. They sang with her and everyone listened to the music. As she reached the boarder and looked over to the adjoining domain difference in the two was immediately observable.
After crossing the boarder she was again alone. She sang one last melody allowing the notes to form a cocoon around her frame and stepped over the line into the domain of the Opposers. The crystal notes of her song shimmered around her causing the rainbow of her majestic robe to glow even brighter. All her colors were needed to cross the domain of the Opposers.
Marita took two solitary steps before Mantu appeared. He was dressed in the rarest shades of red. His cloak draped casually over his shoulder as though he was merely strolling about his domain with no particular thing to do. She knew differently. He too know this was the hour of the Gathering and was prepared to do everything in his power to stop or delay her as long as possible. His actions would be civilized and covert, but he would be ruthless. Graciously the two domain heads bowed greetings to each other.
“A fine day for a stroll, Marita,” Mantu purred, on his best behavior.
“That it is,” she replied, her understanding smile speaking volumes.
“And where are you off to my lovely neighbor?” queried Mantu in his most innocuous voice.
Marita smiled as she resisted with casual elegance his effort to nudge her off the path she had chosen as the quickest one through the domain of the Opposers. “I’m on my way to see She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken,” was her soft and candid reply.
“And why is that?” he asked again with a subtle nudge to divert her feet form the path of her choice. Her resistance was firm enough to warn him this was not going to work. He know that his opening foray would not cause her to change course, so he fell in step with her as she glided ahead of him without a reply to his question. Beneath her voice she hummed the notes which strengthened her shield of music. “Well?” he said as he raised his hand to beckon the Doubters to come to his aid.
“The hour of the Gathering is now,” she told him candidly, “and I go to notify She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken.” They both knew that truth must always be spoken by everyone in her domain, and as leader of that domain she would never not tell the truth.
“I see,” Mantu was not bound by truth as she was, thus he could and did imply he did not know this. Marita threw back her head and laughed, a merry and melodious sound that pushed back the cacophony of sounds the Doubters were making as they rushed in from all sides to surround the pair of leaders walking on the path, now side by side. The joyful sound of her laughter stopped the tiny folk who came as close to Marita and Mantu as thy dared. They also ceased their discordant shrieks for an instant. The instant they brushed against the shield of shimmering music which protected Marita, they screamed even louder and backed away. All the tiny folk spoke at once in high whining voices which created a gaggle of sound loud enough to deafen any who was foolish enough to be in ear shot of them without a protective shield as Marita wore.
She did not slow her progress, but continued her glide along the path she had chosen. The cacophonous sounds of the Doubters all around her blended into a continuous whale as they skipped and pranced to get her attention, which she would not give. They chanted, in harmony for the first time, “she’s not real, you can’t touch her. She not real, you can’t touch her.” Over and over they chanted, their voices raising to an unbelievable shrill. Mantu waved his arms as though he were conducting an orchestra. This signal from their leader sent the Doubters into a frenzy of shrieking and prancing. Marita was unaffected. Her shield held protecting her from hearing them. Gazing steadily upon the path she was taking allowed her to see the Doubters only with her peripheral vision where they appeared as waving shrubs answering a friendly breeze, their statue being so small. She continued on her way not moving form the path which would take her to the boarder of the domain of She Whose Name Cannot Be Spoken.
So intent was Marita that she did not notice the wave with which Mantu dismissed the doubters. Suddenly she noticed that she and Mantu were again alone on the path. They would be punished for their failure to divert her, this she knew. Mantu was unforgiving in his role as leader in the domain of the Opposers. Himself he would forgive, for any and all failings, but the folks he led did not come under any such graciousness.
The Belie
vers soon replaced the doubters. They rushed at Marita and tried to get her attention. At first they too emitted a babble of sounds as each one had something different to say. Mantu shook his head slowly, a signal for the Believers to commence a chant. They shouted, stomped and grunted until a rhythm was gained. Then one of them sang in a very guttural voice, “she’s so beautiful,” stomp, stomp, stomp. All the others responded, “make her our queen,” stomp, stomp, stomp. The guttural one repeated his line and the throng responded with theirs. Over and over they stomped and chanted, stomped and chanted. Marita allowed the rhythm of their chant to direct her steps, which quickened in response to it.
Seeing this Mantu dismissed the Believers with another wave of his hand. He had hoped the Believers would at least slow her down for