The Knowledge Stone (12 page)

Overwhelming happiness was a feeling that Giana had never really experienced before. From the time she had become sentient, her life as a child had been one of suffering, either by the internal pains of hunger, thirst or general neglect, the sharp agony of ill treatment or the debilitating hopelessness of being unloved. Although her suffering had diminished to some degree when she came to Old Malik’s farm (at least she was fed adequately and slept in a bed), she still had to face the periodic pain of punishment and the despair of indifference towards her.

As Joachim watched, transfixed, he saw her smile, a smile of pure joy, a smile directed straight into his eyes. However he knew that she could not possibly see him: ‘If she could see me, she would not be smiling, she would be scowling,’ he thought sadly.

After some moments, the girl turned away and resumed her journey, still bubbling with joy. Arriving at the farmhouse, she slipped through the door unobtrusively, hoping that no-one would see her and angrily demand a full account of her work.

To her surprise, she found the Master and Mistress sitting at the table, deep in quiet conversation; she noticed immediately that they were both dressed in neat, clean clothes and was surprised to see that the Mistress looked quite different; yes, attractive, even. From the shadows, Giana looked at Maretta carefully; it was not only the dress she was wearing, it was the expression on her face. She was listening intently to the Master and her expression was soft, gentle and radiant.

Then the girl noticed something else. The evening meal had been prepared – and the food for the farm boy was not in its usual place, ready to be taken out by the Mistress. Giana was astonished. The preparation of the food was a routine task that she had to carry out after she had finished her work in the farmyard. But this evening, the Mistress had already prepared the meal; the platters and bowls of food were all ready to be taken to the table and she must have already put out the food for the farm boy. It did not occur to the girl that Joachim would have been eating in the shadows when she came back from the dairy.

‘Girl!’ Giana started in fear but the Mistress’s voice was soft and calm, ‘will you bring the meal to the table?’

‘Yes, Mistress.’ The girl had learned to be quick and efficient, carefully placing the various items precisely in their correct places and standing back to await further orders.

‘Thank you, Giana,’ Maretta spoke softly again. The girl was astounded; her jaw literally dropped open. The Mistress had thanked her! And she had called her by her name!

‘Mistress,’ the girl mumbled, her face flushed with deep confusion.

Maretta smiled at her.

‘You may go to have your food,’ she said. Giana stumbled from the table. What had happened? Why was the Mistress speaking kindly to her. This had never happened before. It was wonderful, yes, but why?
Why?

Now the girl had taken her meal and sat upon her stool. The food was delicious and plentiful. The milk was fresh and cool. And Giana was elated, filled with happiness at what had just happened and filled with the joy she had received mysteriously in the darkness outside: ‘I’ve heard people talk about the spirits,’ the girl thought, ‘but I never thought the spirits would ever bother with someone like me, just a poor farm girl.’

She felt awed at the thought and wondered if it could possibly be true. Then, practicality returned: ‘The Master and Mistress seem to like each other at the moment – but it won’t last. Everything will be back to normal by tomorrow and I’ll soon be in trouble for something!’

Although these were her conclusions, nevertheless the girl felt that something very special had happened to her and she still felt happier than she had ever been in her whole life.

Outside in the rapidly cooling evening, the boy replaced his utensils by the farmhouse door as he did every evening and withdrew to his quarters in the barn. On arrival, he lit a small oil lamp and climbed up into the hayloft. As usual, a complete day of very physical work had made him very tired and he was more than ready for sleep. As he started to undress he remembered his strange find earlier in the day.

‘I do hope I still have it,’ he thought as he felt in his cloth waist bag. At first, the strange stone eluded his search but he eventually found it lodged into a corner of the bag. Bringing it out, he examined it once again by the light of the lamp, noting again how the strange striations along its length sparkled with multicoloured light. ‘It’s really quite beautiful,’ he thought, and found that his finger and thumb had once again slid naturally into the depressions at one end of the stone. As this occurred, he felt again that little jolt, the same odd sensation he had experienced when he picked up the stone in the field, a strange feeling of power and awesome significance quite unlike anything he had felt before.

‘This must be a very special stone,’ the boy thought, ‘maybe it’s a gift from the spirits. I must keep it safe.’ He found a small piece of clean, soft cloth and wrapped the stone in it. Then he put it back carefully into his bag and secured the top tightly with the drawstring. ‘Whatever it is, I’m going to think of it as my good luck charm. Let’s hope that’s what it is!’ He grinned happily as he thought that.

Moments later, he was stretched out in his bunk, tired and warm. Physically still and completely relaxed, his mind returned naturally to the day now ended, recalling all the amazing things that had happened and trying to work out the meaning of each. Inevitably, it was not long before sleep overtook him, certainly long before he was able to come to a conclusion about even one of the day’s very unusual events.

The next morning, the boy awoke at his normal early hour and mused further on the strange happenings of the day before, without making any further progress on their meaning or implications.

‘A new day,’ he thought, ‘and everything will be back to normal. It won’t be long before I’m in trouble again.’ He sighed. ‘I really do try my best but sometimes my best just isn’t good enough.’

The boy had come to exactly the same conclusion as Giana had the evening before. Yesterday had been strange and some wonderful things had happened but now all that was over. Now it was back to hard work and no appreciation from the Master or Mistress. He stretched his body and sighed again. In fact, the boy and the girl could not have been more wrong.

Joachim followed his normal routine and appeared outside the farmhouse at the usual time, neat, clean and ready for a day’s hard work. When Maretta appeared with his morning meal, she placed it gently on the stone and gave a brief smile before going back inside. The boy was very surprised.

‘She’s in a very good mood this morning. I wonder why?’

Also, his morning meal was better than normal and much more plentiful. The boy ate and drank gratefully. Shortly after, he sprang to his feet as Old Malik appeared.

Looking directly at the boy – normally he looked contemptuously the other way – the farmer said: ‘We’ll continue ploughing today and should finish the field in three days.’ As he spoke, he handed the boy’s midday meal to him, neatly tied in a clean cloth. The boy was surprised to be told details of plans and even more surprised that he did not have to scramble to catch his midday food before it spilled over the ground.

‘Yes, Master, thank you, Master,’ he replied respectfully and left to prepare the bullocks. Both beasts were ready by the time Old Malik appeared at the pen. He said nothing as he led his beast away with Joachim following close behind.

Because of the stoniness of the field, the boy’s ploughing towards the top of the field continued to be difficult and slow. Mercifully, however, the morning’s work was uneventful. At the bottom of the field, Old Malik was making good progress as his plough sliced through the softer, more fertile soil. The boy kept a wary eye on him but the man rarely looked his way.

‘We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.’ The boy was absolutely sure of that!

‘Boy!’ Completely engrossed in his work, Joachim had not noticed the approach of his master. Now his voice close by made the boy jump with fear.

‘Yes, Master,’ he stammered, bringing the plough to a stop.

‘You may stop and eat.’ His master spoke quietly and calmly, in a voice quite unlike his normal bullying tones. ‘Will you look after my beast?’

The boy was astonished. Old Malik was actually
asking
him if he would do something!

‘Of course, Master,’ he replied in mystified tones.

‘Good,’ the man responded and strode away down the hill towards the distant farmhouse.

The beasts were quickly dealt with; unhitched, fed and watered. Then the boy settled down beneath his usual tree and unpacked his midday meal.

‘What a feast,’ he breathed. A generous hunk of good bread, plenty of butter, a large slice of excellent cheese and even a small piece of dried beef. Best of all – a flagon of farm-brewed beer, just like the ones Old Malik drank every day. Joachim shook his head in wonderment: ‘I am truly blessed; I must be sure to thank the Mistress for this.’ Joachim felt like a king. ‘I’m sure kings don’t eat any better than this!’ The boy’s knowledge of kings was rather scanty, gleaned from comments made by Old Malik, who had been educated in such things by his father when he was young.

The rest of the day passed without incident and good progress was made. As the light began to fade, Old Malik arrived at the top of the field to inspect Joachim’s furrows. Joachim stood by respectfully, scanning his master’s face and hoping that his work would be judged satisfactory. The farmer examined the neat furrows narrowly. Apart from his episodes of fury, the farmer was a man of few words, so the boy was pleased but not surprised when the man said nothing – although Joachim thought he saw a brief nod of approval.

Then the man spoke quietly: ‘Good progress today, we should finish the field tomorrow.’ Joachim was grateful that the words were spoken in a quiet, almost neutral tone. There was no hint of anger or contempt in the farmer’s voice and, to Joachim’s great relief, there was no threat of violence either.

‘Yes, Master, I will work hard tomorrow.’

The man looked at the boy for a few seconds and then smiled briefly.

In the following days, the farm work continued without incident or problem. The boy noted that the Master and Mistress spent every evening talking quietly together; they seemed to have a considerable amount to say to each other. The boy observed that their faces were relaxed and happy; in particular the face of the Mistress exuded an aura of great serenity.

Joachim had tried again and again to work out what had happened on that day of the “accident” but each time he had to abandon the attempt with a rueful shake of the head. Meanwhile, the boy was deeply grateful that his meals continued to be generous and of good quality. Sitting alone outside the farmhouse, he recalled with astonishment that Old Malik had not spoken harshly to him for four whole days!

The next day, the farmer had sent him to harrow the field, to break down the soil lumps and prepare it for planting the crop. This was a much less onerous task than ploughing and the boy made good progress back and forward across the field, guiding the harrow behind the powerful bullock.

From his vantage point high in the field, he was able to see that Old Malik had a visitor, a man who he recognised as a neighbouring farmer. On his visits to the village, Joachim had seen this man several times and knew that he was treated with a great deal of respect by all the other farmers. He had heard it said that this man was the best farmer in the region.

Joachim saw that the two men had toured every part of Old Malik’s farm and, when they came to the field, Old Malik waved to the boy to stop his harrow and indicated he should come down to them.

‘I hope I’m not in trouble,’ the boy thought. However, because of the presence of the other farmer, he did not think so. Nevertheless, he approached Old Malik with some care.

‘This is my farm boy, Joachim, the boy I have been telling you about,’ Old Malik said. Turning to Joachim, he said: ‘This is Farmer Sistas, who is the best farmer in the region.’ Joachim removed his cap.

‘Good day, Master,’ he said.

‘Holat, Joachim,’ the man said, taking the boy’s hand and shaking it. The boy was taken aback. The farmer was shaking his hand as if he was a man!

‘Is the work going well?’ Old Malik looked into the boy’s eyes with a friendly gaze.

‘Yes, Master, it will be finished today.’

‘Good. You can carry on with your work now.’ Old Malik and Farmer Sistas turned away.

Once again behind the harrow, Joachim was confused once again. What was happening? What did that strange meeting mean? Why was this farmer at the Master’s farm and why was he, just a farm boy, being introduced to such an important man? Once again, Joachim was at a loss to work it out. Suddenly, he grinned in his cheerful way.

‘Whatever it all means, it’s all much better than it was a week ago. I hope it continues this way. It would be wonderful if it did.’

Meanwhile, Giana was equally confused but extremely grateful. From that day when the Master came to the bakery, her mistress had changed completely. She was now always neat and clean and drank very little beer. More importantly from Giana’s point of view, her treatment of the girl had altered radically. She was kind and fair to her and usually addressed her by her name, instead of calling her “Girl” and ordering her around angrily.

Moreover, when the girl worked hard and well, Maretta would now thank her and compliment her on good work done. When the girl made a mistake, the Mistress would point out her error and calmly show her how to do the task correctly. There had also been a significant change in domestic arrangements. The day before, Maretta had said to the girl: ‘The Master will sleep with me in the side room, Giana, and you will sleep here in the main room.’

This change pleased Giana very much. At last, she had a bed of her own where she could spread out and bounce around all during the night!

‘Yes, Mistress, I will move my clothes from the side room immediately.’

There was one other major change. One day while they were working in the dairy together, Maretta had spoken about Joachim: ‘Giana, listen to me, please. The Master now tells me that the farm boy Joachim is a very good worker and knows his farm work well. In fact he is so satisfied with him that he no longer needs to beat him. I think all this has happened because the Master is so good at training farm boys. So I am now treating Joachim as a good and faithful worker and I want you to do the same. The Master has told the boy he may speak to you and you may now speak to him if you want. But don’t do anything stupid. Boys are very different from girls, you know.’

As she said this, Maretta felt she had heard these words somewhere before. ‘Where could it have been?’ She puzzled about this for some time. ‘Oh, I can’t remember, maybe it will come back to me some time.’ So saying, the query passed from her mind.

Two weeks had now passed since everything had changed at the farm and Joachim was still puzzled by many things that had happened. However the time had now arrived when at least some of his questions would be answered. Although the boy now had a very good working relationship with his master (for instance, he had noted with great relief that all the beating sticks around the farm had disappeared), he was worried and a little frightened when Old Malik mentioned at the beginning of their working day that they would have a “serious conversation” that evening at the farmhouse.

This worried Joachim more and more throughout the day. What if Old Malik had decided his work wasn’t good enough? Maybe that he should be replaced by a man who would be stronger and able to do more work? If he left the farm, where would he live? What would he do? How would he survive?