Sunday 7 January 2018
Friday 5 January 2018
Wednesday 3 January 2018
to win a kingdom
At the very edge of everything known is a place where time grows thin. It’s home to Cogmaster. Others gather here too, shadowy creatures who reveal glimpses of truth in the flickering smoke of the camp-fire. They come and go, warming themselves for a moment in the company of others before moving on again in silence.
Occasionally, very occasionally, one of the travellers will venture out alone in the dark to seek Cogmaster.
‘Why have you come to see me?’ says Cogmaster.
A small black spider scurries into the shadows.
‘I know you’re out there, Rakna-Ba.’
The spider stops dead in its tracks.
‘Well, don’t wait out in the cold. Come inside, my little friend!’
A sharp crack of light splits open the darkness and the spider scuttles in.
‘So what is it you seek, Rakna-Ba?’
Cogmaster sits cloaked, his face hidden.
‘I’m the smallest of all, Cogmaster, but I want a… a… a kingdom.’
The spider peers up expectantly into the blinding light.
‘A kingdom, indeed! Such a big thing for such a tiny one as you…’
Cogmaster pauses for a moment.
‘…but what will you give in return, Rakna-Ba?’
The poor spider looks confused. A naked, black creature with no possession but its name, it circles the seat, uncertain what to say.
‘I know!’
A shrill voice pierces the silence as the spider stops.
‘I will give you one of my eight legs, Cogmaster.’
A deep chuckle emerges from beneath the cowl.
‘A leg … a kingdom for a leg? Yes, I rather like that, Rakna-Ba! You shall have the Kingdom of the North.’
Cogmaster scoops the spider from the floor. He holds it to the light and delicately teases out a short, spiny leg to the left of its body.
‘Are you ready?’
The spider gulps.
‘Yes, Cogmaster.’
The Kingdom of the North stands desolate, endless reaches of snow and ice punctuated by irregular shards of black rock. There are no signs of life save for a small spider traveling slowly across the frozen floor.
‘How much further?’ mutters the shivering creature to itself. ‘I’m so hungry!’
The spider continues a lonely journey across the white plain. The marks from its seven scaly feet fade in its wake as the wind whips yet more snow across the trail.
‘Two weeks and not a bite to eat…’
With no landmark by which to navigate the poor creature scuttles in circles. It returns time after time to the place where it first fell to ground and with each circuit completed the snowstorm swirls higher and higher. The spider stops for a moment, its breath frozen in the air.
‘Anyone there?’
One last desperate call as sheets of white snow threaten to devour the tiny black speck. Yet in the distance, a familiar figure marches purposefully across the ice-plain.
‘Rakna-Ba, I knew I would find you here.’
A flurry of legs as the spider slips and slides across the ice to greet him.
‘Cogmaster, you came!’
‘Of course, little one. And are you enjoying your new Kingdom?’
Silence.
‘I thought so.’
Cogmaster reaches down to brush an icy frosting from Rakna-Ba’s abdomen.
‘Do I take it the Kingdom of the North is not for you?’
The spider shakes the last of the snow from its blackened head.
‘No, Cogmaster, no! I’m frozen and … and …’
The wretched creature looks down forlornly as the snow-storm continues to rage.
‘ … could I have another kingdom? Somewhere a bit … warmer?’
‘Another kingdom? But what will you give me this time?’
Rakna-Ba raises a leg.
‘Very well, my little friend, so be it. The Kingdom of the South.’
Cogmaster plucks up the spider and teases out another short, spiny leg to the left of its body.
‘Ready?’
‘Ready …’
An arid wind sculpts the sand into molten waves. In the shimmering heat a tiny spider dances in circles, its six feet on fire.
‘Water, water!’ it gasps.
But there’s no water to be found. Just mile upon mile of barren desert drifting endlessly into the distance. By night the spider freezes, by day it bakes. The sun is unrelenting.
One last dune to scale then no further, the creature will be done. Its parched carcass will shrivel up and disappear forever into the sand.
The spider takes another grim step up the side of the dune. It winces each time it touches the burning ground, its progress slowing to a funereal crawl as it nears the summit. And just as the pitiful creature is about to breathe its last a hand reaches down to pluck it from the sand.
‘Rakna-Ba, you look thirsty.’
‘Cogmaster …’ croaks the spider, its throat so dry it can barely speak, ‘… you’ve saved me again!’
The cowled figure smiles.
‘Yes, Rakna-Ba, I have. But how are you getting on in your new kingdom?’
‘It’s … it’s too hot, Cogmaster. And there’s not a drop of water to be found anywhere.’
‘So what shall we do it about then, my little friend?’
The spider extends yet another short, spiny leg to the left of its body and waits.
‘The Kingdom of the East, Rakna-Ba, the Kingdom of the East.’
Forty days and forty nights of rain. The waters rise inexorably, swallowing the ground before them until just one isolated rock outcrop juts up from the waves. A tiny black spider squats on top. It spins round and round, surveying its vanishing kingdom. A kingdom which has fallen quiet. The desperate howls of fleeing life now lie drowned beneath the waves. All that can be heard is the constant beat of rain.
The spider continues to spin, watching the waters advance. There seems no way out.
‘Oh dear, Rakna-Ba! Do you have that sinking feeling?’
The startled spider turns toward the blinding light.
‘Oh Cogmaster!! You … you came!’
A cowled figure plucks the spider from the swirling waters just in time. One final wave extinguishes the very tip of the outcrop and all is sea.
‘Whatever shall I do with you, little one? You don’t like the snow, you don’t like the sand and now you don’t like the water. I shall have to think …’
Cogmaster rises above the waves, a beacon of light taunting the hungry darkness. He makes off to the west, in his hand a small, quivering creature.
‘I shall have to think very carefully indeed …’
The view from the mountain is breath-taking. The valley below is decorated with lush greenery veined with deep brown rivers. It teems with life. A squawk of parakeets flies overhead as baboons sound out their greeting calls from just beneath the canopy of the rain-forest.
A dust bowl is hollowed out at the top of the mountain. Within it a four-legged spider circles. Bereft of all legs to the left of its body it can no longer travel forward. Instead it scampers endlessly round and round, kicking the dirt out behind it.
There’s no rest to be had. The bowl deepens as the spider buries through to the heart of the mountain. On and on it goes. Down and down until there is no more dirt to dig, no more light to be seen. And then the spider is in free-fall.
A splash as it hits the water. Ripples spread across the surface from the point of impact. The poor spider sinks, leaving no trace but a thin rope of bubbles as it continues its descent through the Kingdoms. Down to the deep, clawing desperately against the current in a futile, four-legged crawl. Round and round it goes.
The spider is dragged through a narrow hole at the bottom of the ocean and into the next Kingdom. Spat out into the dunes its water-logged body is coated in thick layers of dusty sand which melt in the desert heat.
And still the spider falls, all the way to a snowy wilderness. The icy ground fizzes and pops as it lands, fusing the hot caked sand to its body in a hardened, amber carapace. Deep fissures appear in the snow. Down it goes, lost to sight.
Rakna-Ba awakes to the sound of laughing children. There is no sign of Cogmaster but his work is done. The four-legged spider is mounted on a toothed dais connected to a cogged mechanism below.
‘Again, again!’ shriek the children who watch spell-bound.
Father turns the handle of the automaton once more and the spider scuttles round and round in a foot-tapping circle. No-one can see it, but beneath the amber coating Rakna-Ba is grinning. He has won his Kingdom.
Occasionally, very occasionally, one of the travellers will venture out alone in the dark to seek Cogmaster.
‘Why have you come to see me?’ says Cogmaster.
A small black spider scurries into the shadows.
‘I know you’re out there, Rakna-Ba.’
The spider stops dead in its tracks.
‘Well, don’t wait out in the cold. Come inside, my little friend!’
A sharp crack of light splits open the darkness and the spider scuttles in.
‘So what is it you seek, Rakna-Ba?’
Cogmaster sits cloaked, his face hidden.
‘I’m the smallest of all, Cogmaster, but I want a… a… a kingdom.’
The spider peers up expectantly into the blinding light.
‘A kingdom, indeed! Such a big thing for such a tiny one as you…’
Cogmaster pauses for a moment.
‘…but what will you give in return, Rakna-Ba?’
The poor spider looks confused. A naked, black creature with no possession but its name, it circles the seat, uncertain what to say.
‘I know!’
A shrill voice pierces the silence as the spider stops.
‘I will give you one of my eight legs, Cogmaster.’
A deep chuckle emerges from beneath the cowl.
‘A leg … a kingdom for a leg? Yes, I rather like that, Rakna-Ba! You shall have the Kingdom of the North.’
Cogmaster scoops the spider from the floor. He holds it to the light and delicately teases out a short, spiny leg to the left of its body.
‘Are you ready?’
The spider gulps.
‘Yes, Cogmaster.’
The Kingdom of the North stands desolate, endless reaches of snow and ice punctuated by irregular shards of black rock. There are no signs of life save for a small spider traveling slowly across the frozen floor.
‘How much further?’ mutters the shivering creature to itself. ‘I’m so hungry!’
The spider continues a lonely journey across the white plain. The marks from its seven scaly feet fade in its wake as the wind whips yet more snow across the trail.
‘Two weeks and not a bite to eat…’
With no landmark by which to navigate the poor creature scuttles in circles. It returns time after time to the place where it first fell to ground and with each circuit completed the snowstorm swirls higher and higher. The spider stops for a moment, its breath frozen in the air.
‘Anyone there?’
One last desperate call as sheets of white snow threaten to devour the tiny black speck. Yet in the distance, a familiar figure marches purposefully across the ice-plain.
‘Rakna-Ba, I knew I would find you here.’
A flurry of legs as the spider slips and slides across the ice to greet him.
‘Cogmaster, you came!’
‘Of course, little one. And are you enjoying your new Kingdom?’
Silence.
‘I thought so.’
Cogmaster reaches down to brush an icy frosting from Rakna-Ba’s abdomen.
‘Do I take it the Kingdom of the North is not for you?’
The spider shakes the last of the snow from its blackened head.
‘No, Cogmaster, no! I’m frozen and … and …’
The wretched creature looks down forlornly as the snow-storm continues to rage.
‘ … could I have another kingdom? Somewhere a bit … warmer?’
‘Another kingdom? But what will you give me this time?’
Rakna-Ba raises a leg.
‘Very well, my little friend, so be it. The Kingdom of the South.’
Cogmaster plucks up the spider and teases out another short, spiny leg to the left of its body.
‘Ready?’
‘Ready …’
An arid wind sculpts the sand into molten waves. In the shimmering heat a tiny spider dances in circles, its six feet on fire.
‘Water, water!’ it gasps.
But there’s no water to be found. Just mile upon mile of barren desert drifting endlessly into the distance. By night the spider freezes, by day it bakes. The sun is unrelenting.
One last dune to scale then no further, the creature will be done. Its parched carcass will shrivel up and disappear forever into the sand.
The spider takes another grim step up the side of the dune. It winces each time it touches the burning ground, its progress slowing to a funereal crawl as it nears the summit. And just as the pitiful creature is about to breathe its last a hand reaches down to pluck it from the sand.
‘Rakna-Ba, you look thirsty.’
‘Cogmaster …’ croaks the spider, its throat so dry it can barely speak, ‘… you’ve saved me again!’
The cowled figure smiles.
‘Yes, Rakna-Ba, I have. But how are you getting on in your new kingdom?’
‘It’s … it’s too hot, Cogmaster. And there’s not a drop of water to be found anywhere.’
‘So what shall we do it about then, my little friend?’
The spider extends yet another short, spiny leg to the left of its body and waits.
‘The Kingdom of the East, Rakna-Ba, the Kingdom of the East.’
Forty days and forty nights of rain. The waters rise inexorably, swallowing the ground before them until just one isolated rock outcrop juts up from the waves. A tiny black spider squats on top. It spins round and round, surveying its vanishing kingdom. A kingdom which has fallen quiet. The desperate howls of fleeing life now lie drowned beneath the waves. All that can be heard is the constant beat of rain.
The spider continues to spin, watching the waters advance. There seems no way out.
‘Oh dear, Rakna-Ba! Do you have that sinking feeling?’
The startled spider turns toward the blinding light.
‘Oh Cogmaster!! You … you came!’
A cowled figure plucks the spider from the swirling waters just in time. One final wave extinguishes the very tip of the outcrop and all is sea.
‘Whatever shall I do with you, little one? You don’t like the snow, you don’t like the sand and now you don’t like the water. I shall have to think …’
Cogmaster rises above the waves, a beacon of light taunting the hungry darkness. He makes off to the west, in his hand a small, quivering creature.
‘I shall have to think very carefully indeed …’
The view from the mountain is breath-taking. The valley below is decorated with lush greenery veined with deep brown rivers. It teems with life. A squawk of parakeets flies overhead as baboons sound out their greeting calls from just beneath the canopy of the rain-forest.
A dust bowl is hollowed out at the top of the mountain. Within it a four-legged spider circles. Bereft of all legs to the left of its body it can no longer travel forward. Instead it scampers endlessly round and round, kicking the dirt out behind it.
There’s no rest to be had. The bowl deepens as the spider buries through to the heart of the mountain. On and on it goes. Down and down until there is no more dirt to dig, no more light to be seen. And then the spider is in free-fall.
A splash as it hits the water. Ripples spread across the surface from the point of impact. The poor spider sinks, leaving no trace but a thin rope of bubbles as it continues its descent through the Kingdoms. Down to the deep, clawing desperately against the current in a futile, four-legged crawl. Round and round it goes.
The spider is dragged through a narrow hole at the bottom of the ocean and into the next Kingdom. Spat out into the dunes its water-logged body is coated in thick layers of dusty sand which melt in the desert heat.
And still the spider falls, all the way to a snowy wilderness. The icy ground fizzes and pops as it lands, fusing the hot caked sand to its body in a hardened, amber carapace. Deep fissures appear in the snow. Down it goes, lost to sight.
Rakna-Ba awakes to the sound of laughing children. There is no sign of Cogmaster but his work is done. The four-legged spider is mounted on a toothed dais connected to a cogged mechanism below.
‘Again, again!’ shriek the children who watch spell-bound.
Father turns the handle of the automaton once more and the spider scuttles round and round in a foot-tapping circle. No-one can see it, but beneath the amber coating Rakna-Ba is grinning. He has won his Kingdom.
Neil Hardy made the automaton above on which this short story is based. A true genius at work!
Here's a link to Neil's web-site with lots more of his fabulous automata for sale.
Monday 1 January 2018
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