Lara-Su had managed to put the twins at last. "Alright, now if there are any requests..."
"We wanna hear a bedtime story," said Manik.
"I just read you two one."
"We wanna hear one from that book again!" Sonia pointed to the book on the shelf.
Lara-Su raised an eyebrow. "That book again? Alright." She walked over and pulled it out. She opened it, and five objects fell out: a badge, an old sack, a pack of cards, a crystal goblet, and three biscuits.
"Ooh, can I eat the biscuits," Manik asked, looking hungry.
"The book says no. They are part of the story," said Lara-Su. "Besides, they're stale."
"Yuck. Never mind."
"So, what is the story about," Sonia asked, getting comfortable.
"This is the story about a soldier," said Lara-Su, starting to read. "A soldier, after twenty years of war, with nothing but a shilling and three biscuits, heading a thousand miles to anywhere." She held up the badge. "This was his regiment. The Royal Hussars."
Oh, yes. A thousand miles the Solider marched, whistling his tuneless whistle. And he'd spent his shilling and was down to the three dried biscuits when he came across an old beggar playing on a fiddle. And the Soldier, who, as ever, was whistling, a thin-between-the-teeth-type whistle, a long drizzle whistle that never remembered a tune, he stopped and joined in with the Beggar's fiddle; the one couldn't fiddle and the other couldn't whistle and were quite happy the both were.
"That's a fine tune!"
"Is it worth a farthing?"
"More. But I can give you nothing. I do have a biscuit you can have."
"Your a good man! One who deserves a better whistle."
"Off the Soldier went with a light heart, and when he took up his tuneless tune-well, funny peculiar and strange indeedy, he had a whistle like a... Well, imagine what rubies would sound like if they whistled, and you have it," read Lara-Su, who began to whistle. The tune was strange, yet rather soothing for the twins.
And he kept it up all the way down the road, until he met another old boy down on his luck and worn at the edges, and this old man he played one he played knick-knack on his drum, and the Soldier stood and whistled his ruby whistle and did a little jig in his weary boots. Then he swapped a second biscuit, and now look at his dance! Oh, yes! A fine terpsichore, good as new, a skip and a hop along the road, until at length he came to a third old soak, worn to a whisper and playing a game of solitaire by the road, and the Soldier looked as the fellow shuffled the pack and dealt out the cards, one after the other, a perfect hand.
"Splendid game!"
"Worth a farthing?"
"More. But I can give you nothing. But I do have a biscuit you can have."
Now the Soldier had but a single biscuit in his bag and he was hungry as heck, so he thought on it. He pulled out the biscuit to break it in two and share with the Beggar, but it didn't feel good, did it, to give the old boy less than the others, so he held out both halves. "You're a good man, Your Honor," said the Beggar. "And deserve more luck than to be on your last biscuit. Take these cards, and may they never lose for you." And with that he held out the pack to the Soldier. Next he rummaged in his rags and fished out an old sack, which he helf up to the Soldier. "And take this sack also, an ugly thing, but remarkable. Order a bird in or a beast or anything you like and it will be there in a twinkle."
Sonia and Manik looked at the sack and deck of cards with curiosity. Lara-Su continued on, "And the Soldier took it, thank you very much, and off he went to a bright skip and a ruby whistle, a light heart and an empty sack, and walked a warm night and a bright day and came to a river."
Three fat geese swam here, their proud armada skimming the water. The Soldier took out his sack and loosened the cord at its neck. "Geese!" he shouted. "Hoy! Get in my sack!" And with this the geese flapped, scrambled, and flocked to the sack, one after the other. The Soldier was astounded. He was delighted. He swung his booty over his shoulder and headed for the town that beckoned on the horizon. How he whistled, how he danced. He had a magic sack!
That night he roomed in the tavern. The Innerkeeper eyed him as he entered; the full sack, the Soldier's livery. "Home from the war, are you?" The Soldier nodded. "With a sack full of spoils." "No. These are three geese, newly trapped. If you could cook me the fattest and give me a good bed, you could have the other two for his pains. Be sure to bring back the sack!" The bargain was quickly struck, and after a time the Soldier settled down to a dish of goose roasted in clove and honey and a bottle of best liquor, and he ate it all and sucked the bones and drank the liquor and danced, drunk as you like, until the morning, when he sank, flopped swam into bed. Three days later, he woke up and looked out of the window. And there on the hill he saw a palace. Where once was pomp, now was ruin. Neglect had traced its moss and ivy, gouged out the stone. Menace issued from this palace.
"Innkeeper, whose palace is that?"
"That's the Czar's palace," the Innkeeper explained. "Was once a place of waltzes and chandeliers and fabulous parties. Now the Devils have it for their own card games."
"Devils?"
"Aye, devils. Every night, they tumble in and scream and shout and play at cards. No decent folk go near, they are so devilish."
"That's a nice palace. Someone should deal with those devils."
"An Army tried. In the morning there was nothing left of them but shadows. I watched them, we all did, these shadows wandering through the great halls searching for their bodies, until the sun set and they faded away. A terrible thing. I tell you, these are devilish Devils and gamblers too."
"I'm going to take a closer look."
"Well, that's folly!"
Folly or not, this was challenge enough for our valiant Soldier. Fetching up his sack and his wonderful whistle, he stalked purposefully toward the palace. Inside the palace, the Soldier found dust, decay, and a devilish odor.
"It was very quiet," read on Lara-Su. "As if the walls were holding their breath. And waiting." She then whistled again, and the twins held each other close. Suddenly, the clock chimed startling them.
A rush of cold air extinguished the candle and all was black. The Devils had arrived. The Soldier felt them flapping like bats above his head. The doors to the hall burst open and slammed against their hinges. More Devils, hundreds of them, poured into the room, each carrying tiny torches. They swarmed to the table and surrounded the Soldier, who continued to sit, unabashed. He began to whistle.
"We have a visitor!"
"He's whistling!"
"That's a nice whistle!"
"I want to have it!"
"Hello," said the Soldier, introducing himself. The Devils flapped above, around, and beneath him. They repeated his greeting to each other as if it were quite the most ridiculous word they ever heard. "I hear you like a game of cards," the Soldier said. This produced an accordion of cackles. Each picked up this line and passed it to his fellow, them collapsed into hideous hiss and wheeze, which the Soldier assumed was amusement. He smiled back and produced the Beggar's pack of cards, shuffling them and banging the stack sharply onto the table, causing dust to billow up and send the Devils into fits of choking. He dealt them out. "So," he said amiably. "What shall we play for?"
"His soul!"
"His whistle!"
"His teeth! I collect teeth!"
"Fair enough," said the Soldier. "And what will you stake?"
"We've got forty barrels of gold! Any good?"
"Very good!"
"Fetch the coffers!" The doors opened again, and minor imps appeared dragging forty barrels of gold and forty barrels of silver. "Any use?" inquired one of them as each of the players dipped into the gleaming coins and threw them onto the table.
"Good," said the Soldier. "Let's play then."
Lara-Su held up four cards as she read the story. Four Aces. "And with that, the settle down to business," she read.
Manik and Sonia looked at their cards. Four Sixes and four Kings.
"The Soldier dealt the cards and won. And won again. 'Is cheating,' one of the Devils asked. 'Well, I am! And I'm still losing,' said another. 'Me too! Deal again!' And he did! And he won! And the devils got into the kind of fume only devils can get in. Fume, fume, fume! He won game after game while the devils cheated from high heaven to low hell to no avail. By the first bells of morning, the forty barrels of silver and forty barrels of gold were stacked behind the chair of the Soldier, who whistled as he won."
"Well, my friends, I suppose we'd better call it a day," said the Soldier to the devils.
"No, we will not! We will call it a breakfast and you the meal!"
"First make sure who eats whom!" The Soldier placed the sack on the table and said, "What do you call this?"
"It's a sack," said the devils. "Just a sack!"
"Is it? Then by the grace of God, get in it!" With that, an invisible hand seemed to grasp them by foot ankle, horn and wing, and squeeze them, one after the other, into the magic bag. Within seconds the room was empty save for the Soldier and his bulging, kicking, turbulent booty. Hoisting the sack over his shoulder, he marched into the courtyard and played merry hell with his captives, whirling them about his head before bringing them down to earth time and time again, with a bump and bash and a thump and a crash.
"More?" demanded the Soldier.
"NO, NO, NO! HAVE MERCY! LET US OUT AND WE'LL NEVER COME BACK AGAIN!"
"Will that be the end of your mischief in these parts?"
"Let us out, please! We're bashed to bits!" Satisfied, the Soldier untied the sack. How they swarmed from it, the terrified Devils; how fast they headed for Hell, wings beating madly. As they flew up and off, the Soldier grabbed the last of them, catching a despairing hoof, dangling the poor Devil above the ground. "Let me go!" it shrieked. "Let me go. I couldn't stand another blow."
"I will not let you go, my boy, until you swear to serve me faithfully!"
"Yes!" yelled the frantic fellow. "I swear by toffee, swear by worms, swear by all those things which squirms, swear by murder, swear by boils, swear by muck and boiling oils."
"I'll hold you to your promise!" And so the Soldier released him, but kept his foot. The Devil crashed to the ground and stared, flabbergasted, back up at his little hoof in the Soldier's fist.
"Hey! My foot's come off!"
"That's right," agreed the Soldier. "Now off you go and remember where you left it."
Lara-Su said, "The devils rushed to hell and slammed shut the doors for fear of being followed by the Soldier and his sack. And they trembled and quivered and fumed and listened without speaking for three weeks in case they didn't hear out hero coming after them. But the Soldier had no time for Devils; he was the toast of the town and the star of the Czar. And things went well with him for a long time. He kept the Devi's foot. Black flowers grew from it, smell of sulphur."
"And they lived happily ever after," asked Manik.
Lara-Su chuckled. "That's the funny thing about living happily ever after. It doesn't matter how happily you live. Eventually, Death himself will come for you."
The twins trembled.
"Oh yes, everything is dandy with our friend the good Soldier in his magic sack. Rewarded by the Czar, he's a rich gentleman now, a husband and a father, lives in the castle, blessed and cressed and couldn't be better! Until one day because fate is fickle, one day because Fortune is cruel, his son falls into a terrible fever and he calls for quacks and apothecaries and healers and soon the boy's room is full with graybeards and shaking heads. But still the fever rages and the boy passes into a swoon and, oh dear, the graybeards are replaced by priests, mumbling and praying. And a man in black comes to measure a coffin."
The Soldier's wife wept, "Oh, what shall we do? My lips are sore from praying and my knees are sore from kneeling!"
"And I have lost my whistle from worrying," said the Soldier. "It's the very devil, I say." Now that's a word. Devil. It went out of his mouth and straight into his ear and jiggle-joggle his memory. And as it did so, the foot, forgotten in its corner, began to shake, its black flowers quivering. The Soldier saw it and yelled out, "Now where the devil's that Devil of mine?"
No sooner said, no sooner done, than a flash of smoke produced the Devil, his sworn servant, bowing and at the Soldier's service. "Where've you sprung from?" inquired the Soldier. The Devil shrugged and pointed wryly at the thin angular stalks of his legs. "Not so much sprung as hopped, Excellency. You have my foot." With this the foot shook even more.
"Cure my son, and you can have it back," said the Soldier. "This is my good Wife, by the way, and this is my devil."
"Mmm! How do you do?"
"How do you do?"
"Yes, I saw your son was ill. Let me have a look at him."
The Devil produced a small, beautiful glass, a tumbler of jewel and crystal, full of water. He held the glass up by the sick boy's head and peered into it, squinting at and beckoned him to do the same. The Soldier took the glass and looked through the liquid at his son. Standing at the foot of the bed was a strange figure, a dark hood shrouding his face, so that the Soldier could not tell whether he was young or old, this creature. Indeed, the face seemed to the Soldier to be that of an ancient baby. All that was clear to him, through the glass and crystal, were the eyes. Black. Extraordinary. Black like a night in the wilderness. To look into them was to look at the darkest sky. Thick black with stars.
"That's Death, Excellency. Where does he stand?"
"At my son's feet," replied the Soldier.
"Ah, good. He will recover. It's when he comes to the head you must worry. Now, sprinkle some of the water from the glass on your child. So the Soldier dipped his fingers into the glass and let the drops fall onto his son's head. At once, his son shuddered and opened his eyes. He looked up at his father and mother as if it were a morning like any other and he had just waked. "I'm hungry," he said, and sat up.
"Oh heavens!" cried the Soldier's wife. The Devil coughed. "Oh Devil!" she said to appease him. And what a marvel it was, their son as good as new. They danced, they sang, they whistled.
"Could I have my foot back, then?" asked the Devil.
"Most certainly," replied the Soldier.
"Oh thank you thank you thank you! Uh will there be anything else, sir?"
The Soldier pointed to the cup. "Give me that glass and I'll release you from your promise."
"Really? Oh thank you! Quite nice, black flowers."
Lara-Su held up the crystal cup for the kids to see. "And so the Soldier set up in his new trade as miracle healer and travel the world on a camel with his magic glass. Show him a sick man and he would hold up the glass if Death sat at the foot of the bed. A quick splish splash and up the invalid would sit, pouring out blessings. But if Death stood staring at the other end, the Soldier would shake his head solemnly and depart. And the relatives would mutter, 'What a pity! He came too late!' and pay him all the same but as often as not he left with all happy and amazed and praising him. And it went well for the Soldier until one day, far from anywhere, he gets a message from home to say the old Czar has fallen ill and sends for him."
So off he set, from the far off where he was, riding all night, riding all day, until home and hurrying to the palace doors flung open, fifty of the Czar's wives weeping in the long corridors and into the bedchamber where his patron lay, gray and giving up the ghost. All hoped and all prayed as the Soldier took out the glass and held it to his eyes. But when the Soldier saw Death smiling at the Czar's head, waiting patiently to carry him off, the Soldier frowned a frown and he sighed a sigh. "I've come too late," he said, and shook his head. One to the other the wives carried the news, a sob passed tear to tear down the long passages. "He's come too late," they wept. "You save beggars and thieves and cats and dogs and yet you cannot save your master."
"If Death needs a new friend, I cannot fight him."
"Then let me go in his place."
"No. The Czar has been my friend and father. If anyone should go, it should be me." So he thought on it and thought on it and knew what he must do. Once again he held up the glass, and for the first time he addressed the black-eyed creature. "Sir," he said. "Take me, and spare him, I beg you." The black eyes stared back, unblinking. A hush settled on the chamber. Silently, Death came down from the head of the bed and stood, eyes fixed on the Soldier. Swallowing back his fear, the brave man dipped his fingers in the glass and blessed the Czar, who sat up in an instant, praising Heaven. And while the palace cheered, bells ringing, the Soldier slowly turned left, a sad and solitary man trudging home to meet his end.
"No," cried Manik. "That can't be how it ends!"
"Who said it ended that way," asked Lara-Su. "I'm not finished."
By nightfall, he had taken to his bed, the life flowing from him. His dear wife and son sat by him, helpless. It seemed all up with him. His energy ebbed away, his breath was shallow, his heart weak. A frail arm held up the glass, and the Soldier dimly saw the black eyes watching over him. With a final effort, he reach under the blankets and heaved out the old sack, waggling it under Death's nose. "Do you know what this is?" he asked Death. And Death replied, "A sack." "Well, it's a sack," exclaimed the Soldier. "Then get in it!" Suddenly the sack bulged as if gulping in the air. A suck, a hiss, and a whoosh. Quick as a flash, the Soldier leapt up and yanked the drawstring tight. Then he was jumping up and down on the bed, his family looking on in amazement. "I've done it!" he cried triumphantly. "I have captured Death in my sack!" And he had. Imagine dancing, imagine the whistling, imagine the hugs and kissing! For the Soldier had done the impossible: he had cheated Death. He laughed the laugh of a man who could not believe his fortune. He threw the sack in the air.
"Good, eh? Death his prisoner," said Lara-Su. "The news, whispered from one of the Czar's fifty wives to the next, spread through the town as fast as gossip, which is what it was, and nothing spreads faster. Within four and a half minutes the whole town knew and within seventeen minutes the whole country knew and by the following morning it was the news in a thousand languages. Death a prisoner! Morte un prigioniero! Tod ein Gefanger! Smird ooznitzen! Ekhmalotisame ton thanato!" She paused. "How do you say it in Japanese?"
"Shi yo, shūjin yo," said Sonia.
"Exactly!"
"Teacher's pet," Manik muttered at his sister.
"And the Soldier, to be on the safe side, set off with Death in his sack and found the thickest forest and the highest tree and clambered up it and hung Death from the longest branch, and promptly fell off. But there's nothing like Death off-duty to cushion a fall."
"So, nobody could die," asked Sonia.
"I mean, at all," asked Manik.
"Nope," said Lara-Su. "Relatives gathered at deathbeds for months on end. Everywhere the oddest battles ensued! There were wars going on in most places and they became very strange. At the end of a day's carnage, flashing swords and explosions, the air thick with arrows and the savage swoosh of axes, nobody had died! The armies would look at each other, exhausted and intact. Duels at dawn went on til midnight when the rivals would go home confused. Crossed lovers would throw themselves off cliffs and have a long climb back. And our friend the Soldier was the most famous man in the world. Because suddenly everyone could live forever. He sat in his palace and whistled his ruby whistle."
Then she made a grim face. "But who wants to live forever?"
Manik and Sonia glanced at each other, wondering where this was going.
Then one day, looking down from his window, he saw his gardens full of poor souls wandering, old scrags of folk barely held together. They were waiting, waiting for Death. For Death's release. But it would not come. And the Soldier could not bear their sorrow.
Once more he set out for the thickest forest, found the highest tree, climbed it to the longest branch, and there, hanging, was his sack. He sat on the grass and untied the drawstring holding in Death. As he picked at the knots, the Soldier spoke, declaring his surrender. "I've led you a merry dance," he admitted. "Now you must have me, and set the world to rights." But no sooner had he loosened the ties that secured it than gusts of what seemed like air billowed from the sack. Death was fleeing from him. "Death!" the Soldier beseeched. "Come back!"
Lara-Su shook her head. "But Death had grown to fear the Soldier and his sack, and would not come back. This was his punishment. He was condemned to watch all his friends and family age and die, but Death would never come for him. He lived on and on until he could stand it no longer, and dragged his dust and fragments across to the edge of the Earth and slowly down to Hell.
The Soldier stood before Lucifer himself who asked what he wanted. "A sinful soul has come to surrender his life."
"Very well. What do you have there?"
"Nothing. An old sack."
"A sack?! It's you!" And with that, Lucifer quite literally kicked the Soldier out of Hell.
"Let me in, I beg you!"
"Go away, go on! And take that evil sack with you!"
"But where can I go?"
"I don't care! Just bugger off!"
An idea came to the Soldier. He hammered once more on the grim door and hollered at the Dark Prince. "I won't go," he told him, "unless you give me a map to Heaven and a way in." There was a silence. Then a map landed at his feet. Encouraged, he continued: "And two hundred souls you have no use for."
This request prompted a hiss of whispers and furious discussions from behind the massive portal. Doors were opened, then shut, steam belching from them. Then an imp stuck out his crimson head and waggled his horns at the Soldier. "One hundred and fifty," he bartered.
The Soldier brandished his trusty sack. "Do you know what this is?"
The imp shrank from it, crying, "Don't wave that sack around!"
Suddenly the door swung open, creaking and complaining. Fug and foul issued forth, a dense bilge of sulphur and reek. From this unholy smoking stench, two hundred slow and mournful figures emerged, heads bowed. The Soldier examined the map as his sorry charges, lifeless and vacant, awaited his instructions. The parchment was a mess of hieroglyphs and strange signs. "Follow the directions," advised the imp, "until you can go no further. Then go directly up until you have the sensation of standing on your head. This is the edge of Heaven. Thereafter follow the church music." Thus informed, the Soldier turned and set off, while the Devils peered through cracks and crannies and fumed, fumed, fumed.
The ragtag pilgrimage made its way through thick cloud and thin cloud, through twist and turn. Some time later (how long he could not tell, for they had long since passed the place where there is night and day), the Soldier had the strange sensation of walking upside down. He paused, halting procession. And listened. From above him, organs sounded, and celestes and the flutes and oboes of Paradise. Guided by his ear, they continued upward, always upward, the music swelling, their spirits soaring, until there they were at Heaven's Gate, so brightly they could not see it, so dazzling their hearts beat fast. A voice greeted them. A voice like bells, like nothing they had heard before, Saint Peter's voice.
"Who approaches?" asked this voice, and the Soldier stepped forward bravely. "I am the Soldier who took Death prisoner," he told the light, "and I have brought two hundred souls from Hell in the hope that God will forgive me and let me in with them."
Without hesitation Peter replied, "The souls may enter, but alone."
The Soldier felt clouds fall on his head. He turned to the souls. "Go then," he told them, "and be blessed," and stood, heart heavy, as they passed him, one by one, the last few steps to peace, the last few seconds before an eternity of rest. The Soldier twisted the sack round and round his hand while he felt hope drain from him, happiness flip away.
Then, just as the last few were running, stumbling, running to the always and thereafter, a thought, a brilliant thought, came to him and he reached the shoulder of one of the pilgrims. The Soldier slipped the sack into the soul's hand and whispered to him, "Take this, friend, and once inside, call me into the sack. Remember: I delivered you from the furnace." The soul nodded, smiled, and moved on. The Soldier watched him as his disappeared into the blinding light.
Lara-Su said, "But you see, there is no memory in Heaven. Souls forget. The Solider waited and waited, an inch from paradise. After a long time the Soldier, abandoned, went slowly back to Earth. And for all I know, he wanders still."
"That's so sad," said Sonia. "When did he realize he'd been forgotten?"
"Well," said Lara-Su, holding up the sack. "When this sack fell from the clouds."
"If that IS the sack...GET IN IT!"
Lara-Su rolled her eyes at Manik's command. "Good night."
She was about to leave when Sonia said, "Wait. Could you cheek our bed?"
Lara-Su held up the crystal glass to her eye and said, "Nothing. You're safe." She left the twins to their nap time...but not before checking in on their parents, just to be sure.