hedydan

hedaidan
Long ago, in a far away country where the trees were black and twisted and as tall as mountains, there was a ghoulah who lived with her daughter in a castle with no windows but many doors. She was so old her wrinkles were like the rings in a giant tree-stump, her back had a hump like a camels, and her mouth hung open, the yellow teeth as long as daggers, because, as I'm sure you know, a ghoulah's teeth never stop growing, that is why when they can't get fresh meat, they dig up graves for bones.

Now the path past this ghoulah's castle was stony and full of rocks. It was such difficult terrain that when travelers passed by, their horses picked the way so slowly that all the ghoulah and her daughter had to do was step out of the cover of the trees and watch as the horse threw off it's rider and galloped away, swift as the wind, back into the black forest. They could of course have eaten the horses too, but both the ghoulah and her daughter had got used to easy hunting, and they much preferred human meat.

The ghoulah would chop the head off with an axe and catch the blood in a dish, and her daughter would light the fire. When the blood was bubbling nicely, Shrimita, the ghoulah's daughter would drop the meat in, plop. They didn't like their meat too well cooked.

Then the ghoulah would toss the skin over her shoulder and open the door of the garden behind the castle. Beyond this door, there was not a stone in the ground, the soil was soft and crumbly and black as midnight, and strawberries, red as ruby, tangled their creeping green coils all along the white and yellowed walls. The walls which were row upon row of skulls, faces turned inward, so they were all smirking at each other. Something glittered in each of the empty eye-sockets, and if you came closer you would see that they were full of gold rings and diamonds and necklaces and brooches and earrings. The ghoulah chinked when she walked because wore a heavy bridal set, the many necklaces and the round flat discs of gold strung upon them reached to her knees. That, she had been unable to stuff into the brides empty eyes, when the ravens had pecked them clean.

But the bride was not left without jewelry, because the ghoulah had kept very carefully the earrings she had ripped from the girl's ears before chopping her head off. One pearl earring was in each eye. The ghoulah picked them up and dangled them, cackling, remembering that lucky, lucky day. The bride and her train had lasted a whole winter, a plentiful winter. And, with the luck they were having, this coming winter would be just as good. The ghoulah cackled again, put the pearls back, and rubbed her hands together. Her nails, like a hawk's talons, made a clicking sound. Still laughing to herself, she turned to the skin and she opened it up, and piled in strawberries and sweet potatoes in their soil clogged jackets and then she sewed it up with a needle made of a baby's finger and thread made of wound silky black hair. When she was done, she dragged the skin to the fire, and the ghoulah and her daughter sat and listened to the blood bubble and the skin sizzle and crackle and the flames leap.

Oh, the ghoulah and her daughter ate very well. And, just as the ghoulah had dreamed and hoped, they had that very good luck the very next day, the sort of luck that only comes on a good year. Behind the giant black trees, motionless, just like boulders, they listened as the sounds came closer, a great number it seemed. A thin layer of grey, filmy dust rose up as hooves struck the dead earth, a slow, silent procession of guards. In the center came a woman dressed all in white, and by her side rode a child with a round, solemn face.

Oh, the noise was terrible! As soon as the ghoulah stepped out, there was not a second's silence. The horses screamed, and the humans screamed, and the guards bringing up the rear turned and ran, and the ones at the front ran on in the other direction. The ghoula and her daughter snatched the woman and the child and the guards who had stayed with them, and then went into the forest and came back with those who had been too slow to get away. With all that horrednous noise, it was some time before the ravens settled back in the twisted branches of the trees.

Now, far away in the city, the hero of our story Hedydan was selling his vegetables in the market just like any other day, when he heard about the ghoulah. Quick as can be, he loaded everything back onto his donkey cart and hurried home, and there, over the day's meal of bread and 3addas, he told his mother how the King had sworn to avenge the death of his only daughter Qurratul Ayn, and the death of her son, the heir to the throne. And then, wiping his plate clean, he said: 'Mother, I'm going to go take a look at this ghoula. What do you think?'

Now Hedydan's mother was a very clever woman, and she had taught her son everything he needed to know. He had a good mind, sharp ears and quick eyes, but best of all, he could run very fast. Only his donkey was faster. So she did not laugh and say 'you are only a boy.' Instead, she said, 'Your feet know where to take you, but I have one condition.'

'And what's that?'

'When ever you don't know what to do, you must sit down in the shade to eat and think about your donkey.' She pointed to the corner of the room where the donkey was eating. When Hedydan looked at him, he raised his ears and brayed. Hedaydan turned back to his mother and said, 'You want me to bray?'

She put her piece of bread down. 'The donkey, Hedaydan,' she said, very slowly, 'is a symbol for patience. If you go, you must remember what I have said.'

Hedaydan scratched his head, but nodded. 'When I don't know what to do, I go and sit in the shade and eat and think about the donkey.' He repeated. 'Yes,' said his mother, and picked up the plates. 'Now you can go.'

Hedaydan set off early the next day, with a basket full of bread and olives. He traveled all day eating the olives, and every night he ate a quarter of a farda of bread before sleeping under a tree, and so the days went until finally he reached the forest with the giant trees. It was early in the morning, and the birds should have been singing joyously, but there was not a sound to be heard. When he looked up, he saw only ravens, and they were silent, watching him with gleaming eyes.

Leaving the donkey in the forest, he went towards the castle, thinking about what was behind those blank walls. Just as he came close enough to touch the slimy grey green stones, he heard low laughter and then a sharp click, click, click. He went round the back and saw the white and yellowing wall of the skulls. And as he watched, a hand with skin like a crocodiles and nails like the talons of a hawk placed a new small head on top of the top row, a head still in it's stiff and yellow skin, with the hair all torn out. That was the head of the prince. The click was the sound of the nails on the skulls, tapping, counting.

Hedaydan slid back into the trees and climbed up to see inside the garden. He saw the ghoula with her yellow eyes and dagger teeth, counting her skulls. He saw the jewels, the gold, glittering in the empty eye sockets. He saw the ruby red, fist sized strawberries and the pumpkins, he saw the black ivy and the vines. There was everything in that garden but figs and olives.

Hedaydan climbed back down. He did not know what to do. He stared at the wall of skulls and then he remembered what his mother had said, and he went back to his donkey, took out the basket and ate ten olives one after the other. When he had done this, he began to think. And then he went deeper into the forest until he found a hole in of the trees, he hid his food in the cloth it was wrapped in. Then, he gathered up some wood, and sat down with his knife to make a bird trap.

The next day, he woke early and set off out of the black forest. He rode back the way he had come, until the ground was soft and easy again. Every so often he would stop, and take off the ring his mother had given him, he would put it on top of some bread on the ground and lie in wait for birds. As soon as they ventured close, he tugged on a piece of string and the wooden cage he had made slammed down on them. When he had filled the empty basket with live, fluttering birds, he heaved it back onto the donkey and went back to the black forest. He took the donkey and the basket with him up to the castle, and just as he had done the day before, crept round the back.

The sun was close to setting, and the in the garden, there was the sound of the soft click click of the ghula counting her skulls. Hedydan, laughing to himself, took off the basket's lid. A cloud of magpies flew out, black and white wings beating in the air. They flew straight for the skulls, snatched at the jewels and swooped away. Hedaydan laughed as the white wall broke. Then the magpies turned their attention to the gold round discs, the bridal gold the ghoulah wore around her neck. The ghoulah beat them off but the kept coming back, a cloud of black and white obscuring her vision. Hedaydan, as soon as he saw this, came out of his hiding place and fast as can be - and Hedydan, as I told you, could run like the wind - he gathered up the skulls into a shwal. Before the ghoulah had even noticed he was there, Hedaydan had run back into the woods.

The next day, Hedydan woke up early, ate ten olives and then called the donkey. Now, when they reached the garden, they found the ghoulah with ravens flying round her, ploughing up the earth around the edges of her garden, and watering it with blood. Hedydan clicked his tongue at the donkey, and the nimble footed grey animal bolted right into the middle of the garden, trampling through the strawberries. As you know, a ghoulah is very strong, but like hippos, they cannot turn very fast. Just as she saw what Hedydan had done, and began rushing towards him, Hedydan shouted: 'O ghoulah, my name is Hedydan and I stole your skulls and your jewelry' and turned back into the woods.

Now this went on for a few days. Every day, the ghoulah ploughed the earth and watered it with blood and every day Hedydan would come by riding his donkey and take a short-cut through the ghoulas land. Of course, the ghouleh got very angry, and she would scream:

Hedydan, ya Hedydan Lao enshedak, shin endirlak?

Hedydan, o Hedydan, If I caught you, what would I do to you?

Every day, the same thing happened, until finally, one day, Hedydan suggested: Boil fisheads and hooves and make glue, then pour it on the ground to slow me down.

So the ghouleh did this, and she caught him the very next day. She locked him in a room and every day gave him beans, hoping he would grow fatter. Every day, Hedydan would pretend to eat the beans when he was really hiding them, and every day, the ghouleh would come in and ask: Hedydan, have you got fat yet?

And he would reply: Not yet, ghouleh, not yet.

Now, the glue had killed much of the ghoulah’s garden, and the ruby strawberries had begun withering, so she decided she would go to find some. While the ghouleh went off hunting for the magic seeds, her daughter Shrimita was charged with standing guard outside the door.

One day, Hedydan called out to her: O Shrimita, Shrimita, won't you free one of my hands so I can eat the beans easier? That way, I will get fat more quickly.

Shrimita, who was not very bright, agreed. The next day, Hedydan called out to her: O Shrimita, Shrimita, won't you open the door to let in some air? That way, I will be healthier when you eat me. Again, Shrimita agreed.

As soon as the ghoulah's daughter opened the door, Hedydan came out of the room, killed the ghouleh's daughter, put on her clothes, chopped her up and cooked her. He masked his face in the blood, and hid his hair under her scalp. When the ghoulah finally came home, she found Hedydan had gone, and her daughter already cooking. So she asked: Where is Hedydan and what are you cooking?

Shrimata replied: The answer to one question is the answer to the next. Her mother was astonished that her dim-witted daughter had managed all this by herself, but she was very happy and sat down to eat the meal. Now of course, in reality, she was eating her own daughter.

When the ghoula had finished all the food, Hedydan started singing:

Wakala lahm bintha Shufi elgasa shin tahta

Eater of her daughter's flesh Look what's under the bowl

The ghouleh raised the bowl, saw the grisly remains of her daughter. Hedydan laughed and ran away, climbing the tall tree outside. The ghoulah rushed after him, screaming:

Hedydan, ya Hedydan Lao enshedak, shin endirlak?

Hedydan, o Hedydan, If I caught you, what would I do to you?

So he suggested:

Dig a hole under the palm tree, put wood in it and light a fire, then throw a rope up here and pull me down into the fire. That way, you'll not only kill me, you'll cook me too.

So the ghouleh went and got a rope dug a hole and lit a fire. But when she threw the rope up, Hedydan quickly tied it round the tree and pulled, so the ghouleh lost her balance and fell into the pit of fire herself.

Hedydan climbed down from the tree, put out the fire, and taking his basket, went to the garden. There, in the ruined evil magic of the garden, he cast out 100 olive pits, and straight away, one thousand olive trees rose up out of the earth, with olives green as emeralds.

11/07

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