twenty three

‘Look at that! Exactly as I’d heard. Now, from what I have been told of The Forrester it was on a mission to collect specimens from the Yaxatac forest. And this is particularly interesting, not just to the botanist in me. Anthropologically the peoples of this region are said to have exotic and wild religions, whose practices are barbaric and violent. 

‘One such tribe in the region, the Axtazazl, has become famous in learned circles for their use of the Death’s Head mushroom, the very mushroom we have here.

‘Of the Axtazazl I know that they were a polytheistic people, and like many tribe’s pantheons there was a god of death, in this case being affiliated with thunder. This god’s name, Alcalaztl, would roughly translate as Death Sky, and the many myths surrounding him often attribute to him the aspect of clouds in the formation of a skull. They were a war like people, who were practitioners of human sacrifice, and so the image of a human skull was always floating before them, a warning and a boon.

‘Keeping skulls in sight came to be an important thing in Alcalaztl’s cult, and all skulls were linked to him. Therefore temples were often decorated both with real human skulls, but also huge stone ones, in front of which blood of victims would be poured, sometimes even being smeared all over these monoliths, leaving them sticky and rusty in shade. Furthermore, other skulls in nature were said to be linked to the god, even those which grew on a certain fungus, and so it was that the Death’s Head fungus came to be cultivated by these people and to slowly evolve so that the black and white pattern on the cap really was a close resemblance to a skull. The evolutionary path is a simple one here, with the people believing that the closer the cap represented a skull, the more power it had to contact Alcazatl. Over many generations the resemblance was uncanny.

‘Decisively, another quality of these Death’s Head mushrooms was their psychedelic properties. Filled with strong psychotropic chemicals, the priests of the cult would ingest them and then enter a trance-like state where they would chant, dance, perform the sacrifices in the temples and then relay any messages to the people; ‘more sacrifice’, ‘attack the neighbouring tribe after the rains’ and so on.’

Each of them now was peering into the little box, looking at the mushroom that seemed to peer back with vitality. Its cap was hard and desiccated from the long journey, but the skull was still clear.

‘Evil. It looks evil to me. What a strange people to see this as a way of communicating with gods.’ Roy was sceptical, averse to topics such as death and violence.

‘Perhaps Roy, but what cannot be doubted is the mushroom’s chemical properties. Shall we do some experiments?’

Excitement filled his question, and they all agreed. An experiment would take place in order to ascertain the properties of the fungus, and perhaps to discover if it really did have almost magical properties.

‘Reality is a dangerous thing to play with my friends. We must be very cautious. But for now let us relax and rest. You have had a long day and I have too,’ here he opened three more bottles of beer, ‘a toast, to discovery,’ and they all drank deeply.

twenty two

The town was quiet with the relaxation of night. Darkness was a welcome relief from the strain of sunlight, coolness was a chance to huddle, and the fading colours were like memories, indistinct but ideal. George and Roy’s steps were pleasingly heavy after their time in the pub since the beer had gone to their heads, and they ambled with a carefree attitude.

‘Let’s hope your friend is in now. Should we take anything along, if there is a shop nearby?’

‘I don’t think there is, not in a little town like this. I’m sure he’ll have food and drinks for us though.’

They arrived ten minutes later and as they approached they were happy to see that the gate was open and that the windows downstairs were filled with light.

‘Just as I thought, he must have been walking in the countryside. I hope he’s seen my cart around the back, we’ll have dinner ready then.’

And indeed it was so. When the door opened, the pleasing smell of a meat stew greeted them.

‘Roy! I thought it was your cart. Come in. And who are you sir?’

‘George. Pleased to meet you…’

‘My name is Frank. Dinner’s nearly ready. Do you want beer?’

They were soon sat around the big, rustic dining table that sat grandly in the centre of the big kitchen. The place was filled with mess, some for eating, some for science, some by happenstance, and the whole room was hot with steam and the large cooker’s flames. Frank brought a crate of beer bottles onto the table and announced with obvious pride.

‘This is my latest batch. I’ve been experimenting with different ingredients from the local flora and I like this beer very much.’

‘Mm, it’s excellent. Tastes a bit like bananas.’

‘Indeed. Beer’s a wonderful thing. No doubt in some distant time there will be a beer flavoured like everything in the world; fruit, crops, meats, veg, flowers and more.’ Here Frank quickly made a note in a little pad of paper that he drew from his pocket, and then he began to serve up the dinner.

It was good, rich and nourishing, and after the long day that they had all had, it was very welcome.

‘So, Roy, I haven’t seen you since the last time I watched you play. What brings you all the way out here? No emergency I hope?’

‘I hope net either. My friend George here came into possession of something quite interesting the other day. Something that we believe if from across the ocean, brought by a ship called The Forrester.’

Frank raised his eyebrows at the mention of the ship’s name, and finished his dinner with a puzzled look on his face.

‘I have heard rumours myself of this ship. World travels fast in the world of botany. Let’s see what you have.’

Roy went and retrieved the package from the cart outside while George explained a little more. By the time the small box was in Frank’s hands he looked very excited.

‘So the contents I hold here are a specimen from thousands of miles away; a species never before seen in this land. How thrilling.’

He opened the box and stared in with huge, intrigued eyes.

twenty one

The Green Knight had looked like quite a small pub from the outside, but inside the truth was slowly revealed; via twisting corridors, lots of little rooms, all connected with unusually placed doors, and two separate bars, George found himself disoriented. But he got the drinks and sipped at one whilst he walked back, retracing his steps, and hoping to espy Roy. This he finally did.

‘What an unusual place. It’s very interesting,’ he said as he sat next to Roy.

‘Yes it is. I think it used to be homes, as well as part of it being a section from the town hall next door.’

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the comfort of the padded seats, the warmth, the beer and the din of people’s voices and their feet on the wooden floor. Sunlight was fleeing from the windows, obscured by the buildings of the square, and a woman came around to light the lamps that were dotted around the place. Soon enough, the warm yellow glow of the sky was totally gone, and what remained was the ghostly luminescence of the burning white mantles. In this light the talking of the other patrons seemed more hushed, and the shadows danced about the long corridors and around the rooms.

‘So have you known your friend long?’

‘Oh yes, we lived near each other when we were young. He went off to study, but we stayed in touch.’

‘And you think he will be able to help us identify the mushroom?’

‘I hope so. He’s a very knowledgeable man. And he’s well-travelled. In fact he was the man I told you about earlier, the one who went to work abroad.’

‘I see. When should we go back to his house. Or maybe we could eat here?’

‘We can leave here soon and we’ll eat at his. I’m sure he’d be offended if we ate here rather than wait until we were with him.’

They slowly finished their drinks, and continued to listen to the echoes that came down through the pub. There was a lot of laughter, particularly from a group of men who were making bawdy jokes, but also there was the clattering of cutlery and music too, that filtered occasionally through the other sounds.

‘Can you play any musical instruments George?’

‘No unfortunately not. I was encouraged to try the piano when I was younger but never enjoyed it. I wish I’d stuck with it though. Can you?’

‘Yes, I used to be in a little band in fact. I play the tin whistle and do a bit of singing too. We played here once, many years ago.’

‘It seems like a strange place for a gig. Is there a stage somewhere?’

‘Nope, we just sat in a corner of one of the rooms and played, more so that the music would fill the place rather than being watched. It was good though, free drinks all night.’

Their drinks were finished now, and they again set off, walking back through the quiet town, with its glowing windows and smoking chimneys, towards the house of Roy’s friend.

twenty

The afternoon was slowly changing from the more youthful visage of midday, into the mature countenance of early evening. The green of the trees’ leaves seemed more sombre, the sky more muted, the birds’ songs more melancholy, and George and Roy remained sat where they were on the cart, driving towards their new destination.

‘Told I was of all the sights,

Wonders far and wide,

But for me the Gold is right

At home,

And so here I’ll be,

Happy and old.’

Roy sang quietly but his deep voice seemed to fill the empty fields about them. And his voice was good too, full of character and timbre, and George was surprised by this kind man, who had initially let him sleep in his family home and then offered to help him further, and who had also shown that he was not a simple parochial farmer, but a man with intelligence. George appreciated his help.

By the time they approached the next town around an hour had passed, and the air was beginning to cool. A slight dampness could be seen on the grass, and the horses’ nostrils sent out visible breath.

‘This is where a friend of mine lives. He’s a bit of an expert when it comes to plants and fungi, so hopefully he can tell us what it is that is in that box.’

‘Good. And you really must let me help you more Roy. You’ve already done too much for me.’

‘That’s good of you George.’

The village must have had a market today for there were several horses and carts of all sizes in and around the centre, and many people were packing up their stalls. It was a small place, but was filled with activity, that was all the more interesting after the long day on the cart. Roy knew where he was going and followed the main road that went through the village until they arrived at a fairly large house whose garden was neatly sectioned off with various plants growing in order, as well as a greenhouse.

Roy quickly jumped off the cart and hitched the horses to the fence. He ran up the path and knocked on the door, but after waiting there for a minute he returned.

‘I thought we’d be lucky to find him in. He spends most of his time walking in the countryside and documenting what he finds there. Very clever chap. For now though we’ll have to go to a pub and wait for him. Sound good to you?’

‘It sure does,’ answered George, who was already thinking about what he might get to eat.

So, after Roy had tied the horses up round the back of the house, the two men walked into the village and went into a pub that overlooked the main square. Its name was The Green Knight and inside it was busy with the early evening bustle of a country pub; people were laughing with their friends and family, talking about their day’s work, and drinking and eating with relish.

‘I’ll get you a drink Roy. Pint of ale?’

‘Of course, thanks. I’ll get us a table.’

nineteen

The two men stared at the surprising contents of the package for some moments, before George spoke up.

‘It seems like I was told something in Gorlis that might have been true, that indeed The Forrester did bring back something from across the seas. Do you think though that this mushroom could drive a crew to mutiny?’

‘Perhaps. I remember when I was very young going along with my mother to a wise man. He was famous in the area for his medicines that he would make from herbs and plants and so on, and he gave my mother a potion made up with mushrooms. They certainly had an unusual effect on her.’

Where they were sat now, in a little copse of trees, they were covered in thick shadow that contrasted deeply with the bright sunlight that bathed the fields all about. The rapeseed was glowing in yellow splendour, and the sky was a luminous blue that was painful to look at. A wind could be heard about them, rustling dry leaves, but in the distance the wind simply produced the gentle swaying of the plants.

‘Let’s keep going for now, we can think of what to do as we sit on the cart.’ Roy hid the package in the cart, under some sacks filled with potatoes, and then they set off again, this time with more caution in their eyes and their thoughts more feverish.

George’s brain was trying to piece together what had happened. The Forrester, the ship that he had seen in the harbour of Gorlis, half sunk, really must have gotten into trouble somehow. By complete chance, or what he had thought was just chance, he had been instructed to take a little parcel. Then, they had just been stopped and questioned, and his destination had come up. Perhaps, thought George, he really had been told the truth and the parcel was indeed from the woman’s husband who had leapt overboard to escape; his possible wanted level by the police could be because he really was, inadvertently, smuggling something the state were after.

‘Maybe we should just dump the package and go our separate ways. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble Roy.’

However Roy remained silent and looked deep in thought. The cart rattled onwards, the horses’ tails continuing to swish and their hooves pressed into the compacted soil, and when the sign for Teverton came and went George spoke up again.

‘I thought we were going to stop there Roy? Do we need to turn back?’

‘We were going there, but instead we can go to the next town over, it’s not far, and I know someone there who might be able to identify what is in that box.’