To Summon A King

 

            The day of Calling arrived. But it was still very early, before bird-up even. Zaar hadn’t opened an eye yet. But Tinka had.
            Up before the sun, she built a fire in her little stone oven.  Zaar always woke up hungry as a wolverine, so she had to get something going before she rolled him out of bed. She put some sausages in the oven in a copper pannikin, then mixed up a loaf of soda bread with currants and put that in to bake also. He would have small beer to drink. He wasn’t fond of tea, and they had no sugar anyhow.
            Breakfast cooked, Tinka went back to the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed and began to sing. She always did this when he had to get up to do something important. About two verses in Zaar opened his eyes. It was a morning type of song.
            “Is it time?” he said.
            “Almost. You have plenty of time to get ready and to eat,” replied Tinka.
            Being a burrow dweller, Zaar was not given to fancy dress or a great deal of personal scrubbing. He arose in his long woolen underwear, scratching his red beard and blinking, very solemnly.
            After going outside for a moment, he stepped back into the kitchen, where Tinka had a bowl of warm water for him to wash his face and hands. Well, as mentioned, he was a bit of a grub. He didn’t do a very good job of it. Gnomes can be quite untidy.
            Now to dress. Leather pants. Blue woolen shirt. A leather vest. Woolen socks and heavy boots. He took his long pointed hat to kitchen with. It was made of felt beaten into shape by Tinka, mossy green and half as long as he was. He was quite vain about his hat. He had a special way of arranging the point so that it hung down just right, loose in back with just the pointed end flopped over his left shoulder. His deep set blue eyes sparkled in their nest of crinkles.
            She sat with him after serving him. Tinka had tea to go with her breakfast. After eating, he had a smoke in his old bone pipe.
            They watched the sun come up together through the small kitchen window. They lived by the sun like the birds in the sky and as the chickens in their backyard also did.
            “I had better practice it once before I go,” said Zaar. Therefor he retrieved his instrument from its shelf in the best room, bringing it in to play for Tinka. Yes.  He knew the tune and could play it well with  his bow.
            “Will you come with me,” said Zaar, though he knew the answer already.
            “I will stay with the cat, Zaar,” she said. Tinka was rather frail. Just a little cooking and housekeeping used most of her strength. The cat, Lars, would sit with her for company.  The chickens were nice, but not very good company.
            He laid his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
            “I’ll come home when it’s done Tinka. Be well,” and he went out the door, shutting it carefully and quietly behind himself.
            Lars came to her, settling himself down in her lap for a little sleep and purring. Lars was as white as a swan and was a rather hefty fellow. When he purred, she could really feel it.

***

            The stone seekers had found a good long one. It was carried from the mountains in a wooden cart pulled by two goats.
            The dwellers in the woods and fields and hillsides were drifting in, in groups and singles. Animals and all the species of Faery were represented. The mound was beginning to be circled by quite a varied crowd. All were quiet. This was always a day of forbearance between all kinds. It was a day of holy truce.
            In fact, they waited for Zaar, the Caller. He would play the song. They would sing the words to start the year. Each year there must be a new stone.
            But at last here he came, dressed and ready, carrying his bowed instrument of many singing strings. He walked through the gathered ring of creatures, standing between them and the great stone circled mound. Some greeted him, most were silent.

          He laid his instrument on the altar stone and began to play the Calling tune. Many voices rose behind him. It was sweet and insistent. Female voices predominated, with deeper notes following. He played the song a second time.  The voices followed. Then a third time, which as we all know, is the strength of the charm.

            At last, all their preparations were answered in the same old way as every year. It was said that they were summoning a king. It was perhaps a droll way of describing the event. Did they see a king? Some felt they had, those with eyes to see beyond the mundane.  Most saw a column of light. Perhaps it was all they could bear to see.
            The column of light rose up where the new stone would be set.  It was carefully marked. There must be no mistake. The light lingered there for a few moments, then it was gone, leaving a perfectly normal spring day.
            The year could begin. The stone was set in place after rather a lot of digging by a pair of powerful young men. Everyone said it looked perfect, just as if it was meant to be  there and had always been there.
            At last the tense silence was broken and the usual buzz of a group of speaking creatures rose up. The non-speaking animals added their happy utterances. There were greetings, wishes and congratulations. Babies were compared. Stories and lies told as usual. A lot of bragging commenced. Festive foods were brought forth. Creatures sat with those unlike themselves for a spring picnic.
            Seeing that all participants were happily occupied, Zaar gathered up his psaltery and bow and went to see how Tinka was faring.
            As it happens, she was still napping. Lars had done his job well. Zaar slipped in to the best room, setting his instrument in its place. Then he walked back to the kitchen where she slept. He sat down at the table and waited.
            In a few moments, feeling that he was home, she awoke.
            “It went well Tinka. The new stone is up. Spring is here,”  he told her softly.