Finding a Way (3) - Xenophon Treefellow

On one morning recently we received a telephone phone call from one of our relatives. I was the one who took the call.

"Hello? Is that Jackson Butterglove? It's Wester. Can you hear me? I'm using the Post Office phone."

The telephone booth by the sub post office has been a welcome facility to those living at the other end of the county where there are less public services. To my knowledge, this was the first time any of the Cornflower family had used the booth to contact Butterglove House.

 

"Yes, Wester. You sound nice and clear. Is everything okay?"

"Ah. Yes thank you. I'm calling to tell you about a visitor we had. One of the Treefellow owls."

"Who? Aristotle?"

"No. It's the one that's using the tree house in the woodland near you. Calls himself Xenophon."

 

Situated in the woods separating Butterglove Lodge from the village green, the tree house belongs to Aristotle and Arabella Treefellow. It is used infrequently these days as the family has a larger family home across the river. This was where I visited Aristotle earlier in the year. I'd heard rumours that the tree house was in use again, but this was the first time I'd been given a name for the occupant.

"Xenophon? What did he want from you?"

"It wasn't me he wanted. He wanted to talk to my boy."

"Brady? Why?"

 

"It was about his interest in Tall Tree Forest. Do you remember how we told you Brady was mapping the odd way paths loop in the Forest? This Xenophon said he'd heard about Brady from Aristotle."

"Now I think about it, we did mention Brady when Aristotle was talking to us about the Forest. Was it a problem?"

"Oh no, but that explains it. Xenophon spoke with Brady for a while and then congratulated him on his work, asking to borrow his notebook to make a copy. I admit I'm curious why there's an interest." He paused. "Although it is an unusual place. Maybe that's why."

"Could be."

Wester continued. "Anyway, you're probably wondering why I wanted to tell you this."

"I thought you just wanted to find out how Aristotle heard about Brady..."

"No, but as I said, you've explained that. I mainly wanted to let you know that Xenophon is planning on visiting you."

o 0 O 0 o

Both Cecile and I wondered what the owl newcomer would be like. I guessed he would be following up on the crystals and a way to reach the Chunglewood community. I had expected Aristotle would be the one to take this forward but, I realised, he didn't claim he would do this personally. 

"Well," said Cecile, "I think we should get something for his perch. I don't want him to stand on the coffee table like Aristotle did. His feet weren't as clean as he thought."

 

We chuckled and found a solid container from the shed that would serve the purpose.

When Xenophon arrived, his manner showed he was a different sort of owl to Aristotle. For a start, he seemed a jollier Treefellow, his eyes sparkling as if there was a huge joke he wanted to share. His clothing was a little unusual too. From his oddly shaped hat to the chunk of shiny rock he wore as a medallion he presented a unique style. 

 

He gratefully hopped onto the pseudo-perch we had provided and waited as we settled.

 

 

"I thought I should introduce myself," he said. "I will be leading the expedition that we hope - with your invaluable help - will open a path to Chunglewood. There's still some organisation to do but I felt that I should explain why the job has brought me to Mellowdene." 

The owl fixed me with an unwavering stare, but his eyes still sparkled with humour.

 

"Before I start, I believe it would be to our mutual advantage if you understood my motivations, Mister Butterglove," he said in an almost confidential tone.

"We go by first names here. Please call me Jackson. And my wife is Cecile."

 

"As you wish. What I want you to appreciate, Jackson, is that I have a longstanding connection to Mellowdene. Although I haven't lived here long, my ancestors played a significant part in its early history."

"Like Aristotle?"

"In a way. Aristotle's heritage includes a long line of teachers and mentors that helped shape Mellowdene society. Mine is more connected to the land itself. Some of my ancestors had an interest in the valley long before the rabbits came here in search of a place to settle."

I held back from questioning Xenophon at this point; I could see he wanted to tell his tale in his own way.

"At that time, the valley only had stunted growth. It wasn't really suitable for settlement. Unlike most of Sylvania, the magic didn't have sufficient strength here. I use the word 'magic' because I don't have an alternative word. Normally, Sylvania is enfused with energies that enhance nature and growth, the spark that makes the entire land the home that we critters inhabit. Something was preventing the valley from getting its quota. We didn’t know at the time, but much of the energies were being diverted to somewhere within Tall Tree Forest."

I started to speak but he raised a wing to forestall me.

"No, please let me continue. My ancestors wanted to make the valley whole but had not thought of a solution. When the rabbits came, my Treefellow forebears expected them to bypass the valley to seek out another home but they persevered. It appeared they wanted to stay and were searching for a means to do that. They needed sustenance and a decision was made to guide them to the mountain lake - the one now known locally as Sweetwater Lake."

A smile crept onto Xenophon's face. "By chance, Sophocles Treefellow heard a remark by one of the rabbits - that it was a shame that waters from the lake could not be used to irrigate some of the valley. That chance remark was the solution we had been seeking, in ways the rabbits did not know. That is because of the depth of Sweetwater Lake and what lies beneath. The energies down there infuse the water with the magic that makes Sylvania. By allowing those waters into the valley it would not only provide a degree of irrigation; if it could supplement the existing subterranean water courses it would invigorate the entire valley.

"By subtle guidance and by offering practical help co-opting moles from beyond the valley, we were able to help the rabbits achieve our dream. Making the valley whole and an integral part of Sylvania's nature.

"Mellowdene is the culmination of my family's ambition. I am proud of being a part of this."

He inclined his head towards the doorway. "I understand your brother is a knowledgeable local historian. I'd be happy to give more details to him at some point. Anyway, now you know why I'm invested in the valley."

We waited expectantly for him to continue.

 

"Ah, of course. To the point," he said. "Regarding the expedition, so far there's only a little I can tell you. Firstly, I have a copy of a handy notebook that young Brady Cornflower put together. Clever lad. I hope that, after some analysis, we can use the book to choose the optimum entry point into the forest." 

"You won't be using the route Ricardo Porcini used before it was blocked?"

"No. It was quite circuitous, having evolved naturally. It took over three hours to pass through. Not a route to take without good reason. Ricardo was unusual in that respect. We want to open a more direct pathway. It is my hope we can do that. In any case, given our resources, I doubt we could reopen Ricardo's route. It's only thanks to your lady wife that we were able to locate those resources at all."

Cecile, who had been uncharacteristically silent to this point, reacted upon being mentioned.

"Me? Do you mean me suggesting the shiny stones Morwenna uses?"

"Exactly.  Arabella Treefellow took me to see Morwenna Deerheart and I was able to persuade her to lend us one of her proto-crystals. She's apparently very fond of her collection and didn't want to part with any but Arabella put her mind at rest. Fortunately I was able to identify the best one; most were flawed. Perhaps that's how young Ricardo was able to gift her so many. I do hope the one I chose will be enough for our purposes. It might be if your ear is as musical as your reputation dictates, Jackson."

I smiled weakly. "One can always hope."

"Ha! Modesty!" he laughed. "I have spoken with both Aristotle and Tara Lapine-Frost.   They give me every confidence in you." 

Cecile had clearly been thinking about Xenophon's words more than I. "Something you said," she began. Xenophon shifted his gaze to her.

"When you say some of these crystal things were flawed, how do you know? Are they safe for Jackson to use?

 

"Oh yes," he smiled, "you need have no fears on that count. All are safe. You see this?" - he indicated his medallion - "It's not purely decorative. It allows me to test the integrity of the proto-crystals. Most of the ones Morwenna possessed had an imperfect structure so would have limited range when affecting the energy portals. Please be assured that the one I borrowed is the best one she had and promises to be the easiest for Jackson to manipulate."

"Good," said Cecile. "And another thing. I was looking at your medallion. It reminds me of..."

She paused, looking at me before continuing. "...of the Dreamstone."

I stared at her. I had suspected that she had encountered the mysterious rock that was in the care of the Reverend Kelvin Waters, kept beneath the chapel, but this was the first time there was apparent evidence to confirm those suspicions. I didn't follow up on this because I became aware of Xenophon chuckling.

"You are a delight, my dear Cecile. This is indeed a tiny fragment from a chunk of Dreamstone that the Owl Collective holds. I didn't expect anyone to recognise it. Most believe it to be a myth. I'm able to use the energies within this particular fragment to activate proto-crystals and see how they might be channeled."

 

Cecile smiled at me. "Sorry, my love. I know you're not really into the spiritual side of the Snow Queen story. That's the only reason I haven't mentioned me seeing the Dreamstone."

Xenophon regarded us both before again indicating the doorway. "Something for you to discuss perhaps, but I've taken up enough of your time. I shall leave you and be in touch when we're close to being ready to proceed. Much will be dependent upon daylight and the weather."

He moved to leave. "I will let myself out. Farewell, Jackson Butterglove. Cecile."

"No, I'll let you out," said Cecile, rising to join him. Maybe she had further questions.

I sat a while after they had left, wondering how long it would be before I would be the one leaving - on Xenophon's expedition. Expedition! I wondered who else would be going?

o 0 O 0 o

(To be continued)

  

The Cornflowers of Mellowdene

It is a Cornflower tradition that, when a child reaches a particular age, they are celebrated with a siorda - a recognition of their official inclusion into the inner family. I don't fully understand it but that isn't really a concern - it is part of the travelling community's history, and although this particular branch of the Cornflower family have left the nomadic life, young Brady was due to be honoured.

Actually, he is physically a little young for the siorda - the Pause currently delaying our Sylvanian ageing - but it was considered unfair that he suffered the delay, waiting an unspecified period. His parents - Wester and Betsy Cornflower - argued that he had waited long enough and that Brady had mature outlook for his age. The current Cornflower elder - Wester's brother Trafalgar - agreed and a date was set.

Why am I telling you this? Well, putting aside that the Cornflowers are distantly related to the Buttergloves, Cecile is personally involved because she has made the celebratory siorda cake.

Wester and Betsy had arrived at Butterglove House to collect the cake, and as it was an opportunity for a minor family gathering, Trafalgar and his wife Athaliah had come from their shared home with my brother Newton. They had brought tiny Nugget so that he could play with Russell. 

 

In addition, Wester's sister Tabitha - her husband being my cousin Jonathan - had crossed the Field separating their home from ours.

 

Everyone admired Cecile's cake and then we settled down, Nugget and Russell entertaining us with the noises that - we were convinced - were their own private language. 

 

Small talk over, Brady was the first proper subject of conversation. But it evolved.  

o 0 O 0 o

"His grandfather would have been proud of him," said Wester. "He has that curiosity of wanting to know what's around the corner."

"Aye," said Trafalgar, "he would have made an excellent scout in our travelling days."

 

"Is he still infatuated with the forest?" asked Tabitha. "I remember a couple of years ago you saying he kept disappearing into there."

 

 

"Isn't that dangerous?" said Cecile. "Tall Tree Forest has a reputation."

Trafalgar harumphed. "It's an odd place, granted. But not dangerous."

Betsy nodded. "I was a little concerned at first. The forest is so dense there was a fear he might get lost, but we soon realised that the odd aspect of the forest actually prevents that happening."

"That's right," said Wester. "Walk a number of yards and one loses all sense of direction but if you keep going, you find yourself walking out of the forest, not too far from where you entered."

 

Trafalgar smiled. "Odd, as I said. I know there are crazy tales about it being haunted, some even claiming a hint of distant voices, but branches creak in the wind, leaves rustle, and woodland creatures aren't always silent in their activities. No. The oddness is that you can't pass through it. I like to think of the forest protecting us from getting lost."

"And that's why I have no fears about Brady playing there," said Betsy. 

 

"I don't see the attraction," said Athaliah, looking up from Nugget and Russell who were entertaining each other by puffing out their cheeks and blowing air at each other. Each time they made a noise they would giggle.

 

"Well, he thinks he might be able to understand the forest if he can map out how entry and exit points relate."

I listened to this with interest. I was aware of a mild superstition of the forest. You may recall Vivienne Honeydew being a little frustrated about her son Button venturing there. Accompanied by Brady, now I think of it. I also remember Merlin's description of "The Year of the Rabbit" when Mellowdene's four founding families couldn't pass through the forest and had to circumnavigate it further inland.

"So how did the Cornflowers originally reach Mellowdene?" I asked. "Not through the forest, I'm guessing."

 

"You know our family used to live in wagons," said Wester.

 

Sylvester Cornflower with his five children

 

I nodded and he continued.

 

 "Our father drove our wagon through the pass.You probably know the one. It's an established road separating Tall Tree Forest from other, less unusual woodland."

"Right." I suspected that this would be the same route taken as the four families, now developed into a more hospitable road. A thought occurred. "What prompted your father to take that road? Do you know?"

Trafalgar raised his brows. "Have we never said? Hmm, maybe not. I suppose you need to understand our father."

 

Tabitha smiled sadly. "He was a lovely dad. After we lost mum he took care of the five of us but it became difficult as we grew, packed into one wagon."

 

"It's true," Wester added. "Sylvester Cornflower was the best dad. He had travelled all his life but he knew that he couldn't care for us properly whilst we were on the road. He'd heard of of Mellowdene and by chance we were near to a road that led here. As children we didn't fully understand his reasons at the time, but his decision to settle made sense. As newcomers we were welcomed by some lovely people. That helped the change in our lifestyle."

 

The word "newcomers" sent my mind into another direction. The Umberhounds had been referred to in those terms after their arrival into Sylvania. Some robed figures had brought them to our shores - the figures I now suspected were of the Sylvanian Order, should Mulder Honey-Fox's theory be correct. Had Sylvester Cornflower been such a newcomer? 

 

I wanted to be tactful in my questioning, and an affectionate Russell gave me time to shape my words.. 

"So - how far can you trace back the Cornflower family tree? Do you know - or would the travelling make that difficult?"

"Oh, there are many generations of Cornflowers," said Trafalfar. "I couldn't name them, but we go back to a time in the Sylvanian middle ages when we separated from the Buttergloves."

"That long ago?" Well, that scrapped the Sylvanian Order idea. In any case, how could it have been true if our two families are connected? I felt like an idiot.

 

"There's even documentary evidence of our connection, dear, distant cousin!" Trafalgar laughed. 

  

"Really?"

"It's stored in our out building. I suppose we should really donate it to the Hansel Museum. Keep it safe and consolidate our Mellowdene connection while we're at it. Merlin would have a field day. What do you think, Tabitha, Wester?"

The two siblings agreed, Wester saying, "It's a family decision so we should ask Boswell and Godolphin but I'm sure they'd be happy with that."

o 0 O 0 o

They were. The museum received a tapestry and some parchment documents. 

Merlin was, as expected, excited. He suspected the tapestry depicted the time when the Cornflower family separated from the Buttergloves, perhaps even recording the time they took the Cornflower name. It wasn't local history; it was beyond Mellowdene - possibly a significant medieval event.

"What about the documents?" I said, once Merlin had accepted them from Trafalgar and had given them a brief but efficient examination. "How have they survived given their age? Trafalgar said they'd been stored in an out house and before that they would have been stuck somewhere in their wagon."

"I understand your curiosity, Jack. It's a good question. Kelvin Waters has the original copy of some early Mellowdene journals that wouldn't survive handling by most paws. We have copies, but Kelvin won't release the originals from their sealed case."

"So, what about these parchments? They are much older aren't they?"

"Oh yes. But they've been kept away from sunlight and preserved in shallow boxes lined with keepmint. Have been for most of their existence. The same preservative that Kelvin now has in his case and that we use in the library. It prevents moisture damage and rot."

 

I had forgotten about the gentle fresh odour that pervaded in Mellowdene County Library. The library shelves were treated to supposedly eliminate any fusty smells from old books but I hadn't really considered that this herb had another purpose. That said, the old-fashioned name keepmint was a giveaway.

"That's fortunate, then," I said. "What about the contents? Is there lots of useful information?"

Merlin scrunched his muzzle. "Sadly, there's not a lot I can understand. Most is written in charak, a language used by some travellers. We'd need someone to translate."

"Don't any of the Cornflowers read it?"

"Not really. Sylvester Cornflower couldn't read and he only had a rudimentary knowledge of the contents. His wife was more literate, and the tradition was that she would teach charak to their children when they reached their siorda day. But that didn't happen. None of the children were old enough when their mother passed."

"That's sad," I said, thinking of our own dear mother. "Does that mean you can't learn anything about the Cornflower history until you find a translator?"

"Trafalgar knows a smattering from a few things Sylvester revealed, but by and large, the documents are a mystery - for now. Well, except for the oldest two. There is a sort of certificate and an accompanying parchment. That was before the Cornflowers fully adopted the travellers' way of life."

"And you've read them?"

"Yes. And they are interesting."

I saw a twinkle in his eyes. I suspected 'interesting' was an understatement. He continued by summarising the contents of the medieval parchment.

"There was a largeish number of Butterglove rabbits getting ready to settle in a calm strip area where a number of other critters were establishing a community. A few of the Buttergloves were uncertain about the location, hearing of nearby swamps appearing from nowhere. There followed a difference of opinion. 

"They couldn't agree on a compromise. During the discussions a caravan of 'flower travellers' passed through the area. One of those who didn't want to settle - Jolean Butterglove - realised that there would never be an agreement with those who did wish to remain, and asked to join the flower travellers. The travellers agreed, but a prerequisite was that those that joined would adopt a new surname - that of a flower - in order to show commitment. Cornflowers grew nearby, so those Buttergloves who left became known by that name."

He showed me the certificate.

I stared at my brother. Was he thinking what I was thinking? That the descendants of the Buttergloves abandoned by the Cornflowers were our direct ancestors? The ones who became some of the Mellowdene founders?

"Was... was the community... the one the Cornflowers left... was it named?"

Merlin shook his head and came out from behind his work desk. 

 

"No. And I suspect the charak documents won't name it either, being more concerned with the travelling life and traditions."

I nodded. I began to air my disappointment but stopped. Why was I bothered? I wasn't a historian. Maybe it was because evidence of Buttergloves living in a medieval era did give a feeling of satisfaction and, of course, it would have been nice to know more. But's let's not be greedy - what I'd already learned should be enough. The feeling that we were an established part of the world was something worth smiling about. I felt the corner of my mouth lifting.

Merlin grinned. 

Confirmation that it was good enough. My brother was happy.

o 0 O 0 o