The Three Soldiers Read online

the genie had come to love the Singing Dove and he put out traps and snares to keep out intruders and thieves. The streams which ran down the mountain, he made cool and sweet, so wonderful that one who tasted them lost all reason and forgot why he had come. Such a one would wonder about until he happened onto the next snare-the velvet flowers which gave off a fragrance so lovely that nothing could compare. As soon as the unfortunate one smelled such a flower he was turned to stone.

  "The genie remained at the entrance to the garden in case any should elude his first two traps, but none ever succeeded."

  The soldier listened carefully to every word of the tale. He begged the story-teller to point the way to the mountain. She told him that he path led directly into the rising sun of autumn, and she wished him a safe journey.

  The soldier and the old man started off the next morning with supplies and warm wishes from the inn-keeper and the others who had come to hear the story-teller the previous night. The old man continued to rail at his mental mirages as they said their good-byes.

  Their journey to the foot of the mountain took the better part of a year. In each town the soldier told the story of their quest, and in each town the people asked him to return with the Singing Dove if he should find it. Many helped them with food and lodging which was fortunate, because the soldier's small pension was almost gone. The old man seemed to be losing strength along the way and the soldier feared the man might find peace of a different sort before they reached the mountain.

  When at last they stood looking up at the mountain, the beauty was such that even the old man was awed into a brief silence. While the voices of lost souls jangled in his mind, the soldier's eyes delighted in what they saw. Streams that sparkled and danced ran down the mountain in waterfalls. Rainbows played over the falls in constantly changing patterns. The two men ran up the path to the closest waterfall. A little sandy beach beckoned them to rest and refresh themselves. Only the voices in his head kept the soldier from falling victim to the water's seduction. The old man gazed longingly at the falls and the soldier was hard pressed to keep him moving up the path.

  As the two walked up the trail, the landscape became more lush. Now the falls were lined with blocks of multi-colored velvety flowers. The soldier stopped to stare at their splendor. In that brief instant the old man escaped his notice and before he could be stopped, drank of the sparkling water. He looked at the soldier and laughed out loud.

  "They're gone," he shouted, "they're finally gone." He leaped from the waterfall and flung himself into the flowers, laughing insanely, gathering up bunches of blooms; and then he was gone-only a black stone stood in his place.

  The soldier cursed himself for his weakness in allowing the old man to wander off. He pulled the stone toward him with a stick, being careful not to smell the flowers. He held the stone to his chest and wept.

  "At least he died in a happy moment," he thought. "Perhaps I should do the same."

  After a time the soldier forced himself to move on, but he could not leave the stone behind. He carried it with him up the mountain. When he came to the entrance to the garden he saw a beauty different from the untamed beauty of the mountainside. Here at the top of the mountain was a beauty born of harmony and peace. He saw the genie that stood at the entrance and he saw beyond just a glimpse of the garden's perfection.

  "You have come a long way in vain," the genie said. "Now you will join your friend in a stony peace.

  As the genie grew out around him, the soldier clasped the remains of the old man tightly and awaited his fate. At the moment that he felt a stiff coldness close on his heart, he heard the singing of a bird overhead. The chill left him and he looked up to see a pure white dove circling above him singing a song that drove the voices from his head and caressed him like a warm breeze. The genie seemed to be listening as well.

  "Who is this man you carry with you?" the genie asked, "and what is the meaning of that mark?"

  The soldier looked at the stone and noticed that the old man's tattoo was now etched in the stone.

  "He as a soldier in a war long forgotten. This was the mark of his allegiance," the soldier said.

  The bird began to sing again and the soldier no longer cared what happened to him, so perfect was the peace that overtook him. He was roused from his lethargy and overcome with emotion when the stone bolted from his hands and the old man reappeared before him.

  In a voice as musical as a song the dove began to speak to the old man.

  "This was the mark of those who fought with my father, the King. I had given up all hope that I would ever find a survivor from that dreadful war. You must come and stay with me in my garden and let me soothe your troubled soul. Bring your friend as well who loved you even after you were lost. We have much to celebrate."

  And so they lived for a time together in the garden. The soldier learned to play many of the Dove's songs on a flute. The Dove showered affection on the old man and the old man recaptured much of his love of life. He told the Dove what he could remember of the last days of her beloved prince.

  The soldier could easily have stayed in the garden forever, but he felt the brass buttons in his pocket and he knew the two years since he had left his two soldier comrades were almost gone. The Dove told him to keep the flute and play the songs he had learned for his soldier friends. The old man decided to spend the rest of his days on the mountain top with the Dove, and they all said goodbye at the garden gate. The genie picked him up in a whirlwind that deposited him close to the chosen meeting place.

  The day of the meeting arrived and the soldier waited, practicing the songs he would play for his friends. As night fell he made a fire and continued to wait. By next morning he knew his friends were not coming. He resolved to go and find them and so he started off in the direction the first had gone. Before long he came to a town and inquired after his friend at the tavern.

  The tavern owner recognized the soldier's description at once.

  "That scum, Pegleg, of course I know him," he said. "He's fathered three children by three women and he can't support a one of them. He's drunk all the time, owes everyone money, and as far as I can see, is good for nothing. You'll likely find him down the road with his hand out."

  Just as the tavern owner had predicted, the soldier found his friend in a stupor beside the road. The drunken man did not at first recognize his old friend. The soldier took out his flute and began to play some songs. Gradually Pegleg began to listen and finally he recognized the flute player as his old companion.

  "My life has become a nightmare," Pegleg said as he began to sober. "I never meant to harm anyone but somehow I have managed to hurt those I loved as well as myself."

  "Never mind," the soldier said to Pegleg. We will make it right together, but for now we must find our missing companion."

  The two set out together in the direction the second soldier had taken. As they neared the forest they saw fewer and fewer travelers and those they did see warned them to stay away from the densely forested river area.

  "Iron Hand and his thieves lay in wait there," they said. "That one shows no mercy."

  The two soldiers feared that Iron Hand was their old companion and had made good his threats.

  As they journeyed toward the dense river area, the forest grew very dark and still. They wondered what they would say to their old friend now that he had become an outlaw. As they sat together by the fire warming themselves against the cold night, they assured one another that no matter what he had become, they would not forsake their old friend. The did not see or hear the dark figures around them until they attacked.

  The two soldiers tried to defend themselves, but they were out-numbered. They were beaten cruelly and when the thieves found they had no money or jewels, they beat them all the more. When the soldiers cried out for Iron Hand, the thieves laughed and said Iron Hand would meet them, but they would regret the meeting.

  The next morning the thieves in
formed Iron Hand that they had waylaid two travelers who had been a waste of time. When Iron Hand was told they had cried out for him, he supposed they had been sent by the king to try to arrange some sort of truce.

  "I will give the king his reply," Iron Hand said with an evil sneer. "Show me these king's toadies."

  When his two comrades were brought before him, badly beaten and abused, Iron Hand was horrified. He raged at their captors and tried to kill them, but they managed to escape, sure that Iron Hand had lost his mind.

  Iron Hand nursed his friends back to health and never ceased despairing of what he had done.

  "Even if you could forgive me," he told them, "I could never forgive myself. Look where my hatred has taken me."

  As the flute player regained his strength he said little, but began to play the songs he had learned from the Singing Dove. Iron Hand finally ceased condemning himself and listened thoughtfully to the music. The three gradually began to talk and renew their bonds.

  Pegleg related his sad chronicle and Iron Hand vowed that Pegleg's children would never want for anything. They were amazed at the story of the Singing Dove and knew it was true by the effect the songs were having on them.

  "There are no problems we cannot overcome together," they said.

  After much discussion Iron Hand decided to search for the travelers his