“Yes,” said Rune. “Thank you for your account, Shira. The Ice People – which is what we will call them from now on – remained in Taran-gai for some years. By the time he was fourteen, Tan-ghil had already fathered his first child, and more were to come. But as you know, these children aren’t counted as members of the Ice People. This was before he reached the sources.
“When Tan-ghil was a grown man, I would say about thirty-five years old, something happened that you have never heard about. Something of which I was very proud at first but which turned to despair for me, the Ice People and the whole world.”
Rune was thoughtful for a moment and then continued: “Just like you, Targenor, my master made a terrible mistake. One warm summer day, when he wanted to bathe in a forest lake, he took off the mandrake – me – as you also did, Targenor.”
Targenor nodded. “It was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“Yes,” said Rune, “and also of my master’s. Because, unfortunately, Tan-ghil had gone hunting in the beautiful pine forest behind Taran-gai’s wild mountain. He came sneaking among the trees, saw my master splashing around out in the lake – and suspected immediately that he now had a chance. Tan-ghil found me and stole me.
“His triumph was immense. He hurried as fast as he could through the forest to his lonely abode; he very rarely mixed with the others.
“Tan-ghil had learnt a lot from his mother, the shaman woman. He had taught himself even more when it came to evil. He knew how valuable I was and what even a piece of me could accomplish. I didn’t know what was on his mind at the time or what he had thought of achieving through me, but he cut off a large piece of me, fibrous roots and all, which was like one of my feet. The fibrous roots are the equivalent of toes.”
Rune took his boot off and showed a mutilated foot.
“Hey, comrade,” shouted Ulvhedin. “Then we’re equal!”
Rune laughed kindly. “I know. I’ve always understood you completely.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” exclaimed Ingrid. “I and many of us were in the habit of cutting off a root thread or two when we needed your assistance.”
Rune smiled and raised his fingers. “Don’t I know it! But this happened long before your time. I must be grateful that my arms and legs remained intact.
“Anyway, Tan-ghil brewed a potion from the piece of my root and much more. But I’m mightier than he knew. In that part that he took, I placed a conjuration that would make the drink lethal ...
“It worked. Tan-ghil was in agony, his life threatening to come to a very swift end. He damned me all over the place, but it didn’t help him. I was quite unaffected when I saw how the days of the damned would end.
“Then something happened that I hadn’t taken into account, which was our downfall. Tan-ghil was dying. Shama turned up!”
“I see,” Shira gasped. “So you were the reason why he met Shama!”
“Yes. My pride was my downfall. Shama led Tan-ghil into the void, which you, Shira, also experienced. The point in time between two moments. The calm. Just like you, Tan-ghil argued with him. Set up conditions. Expressed his wishes.”
Henning asked Rune: “So you were also in this calm?”
“Yes, I was. I don’t think Tan-ghil realized it, as he seemed bewitched by Shama’s presence.”
“What did they talk about?”
“At first, Tan-ghil resisted terribly. He refused to die. Like all human beings who take themselves very seriously indeed, he was extremely frightened of dying. Panicked. Scared stiff. He who so readily extinguished other people’s lives. He began to bargain with Shama. The spirit of Stone and Death had a jolly good time listening to him. At first, with his usual disgust, which you undoubtedly recognize, don’t you, Shira? Yes, I thought so. Then Shama began to listen with greater interest ...
“For Tan-ghil offered to be of service to him. To give him a thousand dead bodies instead of himself. This was when Shama pricked up his ears. I recall his soft, charming voice: ‘A thousand dead bodies? What am I do with them? I’ll have them anyway sooner or later. No, but if you could ...’ Shama fell silent as he pondered, and Tan-ghil became eager: ‘Yes, yes, if I could ...?’ ‘How evil are you really?’ Shama asked. ‘You self-satisfied little human creep.’ Tan-ghil assured him that there was nothing soft in his nature. A colder person than he had never been born.
“Then Shama spoke about the source – about the source of evil, which nobody had been able to reach. Never ever. Many had tried, because it generated power and eternal life, which are delicacies for selfish creeps. Tan-ghil’s eyes grew bigger and bigger and he didn’t listen to the streams of abuse – for a change. If another person had called him a creep, they wouldn’t have lived many minutes longer. But Tan-ghil almost crept for Shama when he heard what costly goods he could get for him. Just listening to him made me feel extremely ill at ease. ‘If you succeed in reaching the source,’ Shama told Tan-ghil, ‘you can be my helper. You can give me many, many dead bodies, beautiful flowers for my black garden. You and your descendants can give humans a swift, evil death – and they will be the ones who come to my garden.’
“Tan-ghil promised anything and everything, if only Shama would show him the way to the source. That was when Shama gave a crude laugh. ‘I can show you where to find it – the entrance to the grottos that lead to the source. But you’ll certainly have to walk to the source by yourself.’
“Shama’s eyes took on a cunning expression. ‘Yes, I’ll show you the way. But ... don’t bring that thing you have hanging on the wall over there! If you do, you’ll never reach the source.’ It was me that he meant, and Tan-ghil snorted. ‘What do I need that thing for? It hasn’t been very useful to me.’ ‘No,’ Shama replied curtly. ‘Do you know what, my cunning friend? I really hope you’ll make it to the source of evil, and I actually believe you stand a chance of doing so. A chance – whether you reach it, nobody knows. You’ll face enormous dangers on the way. If you have any kind of weakness in you, the merest hint of humanity, you’ll die immediately. You will almost have to. Now ... I’ll provide some assistance.’ Tan-ghil was so eager that his eyes turned green with his lust for power. ‘Yes, yes,’ he gasped. Shama took out a small flute. ‘If you feel that you’re about to lose your struggle to reach the source, if your life is in danger ... then try to blow into this. This is a flute for awakening: it wakes up what seems to be sleeping or is dead.’”
“Oh,” said Tula. “This is where the flute enters the picture.”
“Yes,” said Rune. “Shama gave him the flute.”
“Did he need it?” Shira asked. “Inside the grottos?”
“Yes he did, because that route may have been even more inhuman than yours was, Shira. I don’t know everything about his walk through the grottos of evil because I wasn’t allowed to go with him. Instead, I concentrated my will on my rightful master, so that he would understand where I was. While Tan-ghil was out on the Mountain of the Four Winds, my master sneaked up to Tan-ghil’s terrible abode. It was so full of magical objects of devilry that nobody else had dared to enter. So my master was very brave to have the courage to step inside. He found me, and was relieved that he had found me, but frightened to death of Tan-ghil’s revenge. He had no reason to be. I held my hand over him.”
Inu, the oldest of all the Taran-gai, stood up. “Does this honourable assembly permit your humble servant, Inu, to speak?”
The audience was pleased to do so, as they told the short Taran-gai.
Inu bowed deeply to Rune. “Your excellency, I heard a lot about you when you lived in Taran-gai. You were already a legend then, and we grieved that you left us in the company of those that migrated westwards.”
“Thank you