A Fair Price.
Magda tied her message to the dove’s leg and threw it high into the air. The small white bird circled her once and flew out to sea towards the setting sun. Standing alone at the edge of the cliff, she watched it until it was nothing more than a small dot in the coral-streaked sky.
‘My heart longs for you,’ she whispered. ‘My soul aches for you.’
A hand touched her shoulder. She turned and Daniel was there, his eyes reflecting her misery, his body reflecting her pain. She took his hand and they walked along the cliff path in silence until they reached the memorial to the lost children, a stone monolith with their names carved upon it.
Magda traced a name with her finger and then could bear it no longer. She sank to the ground, rocking back and forth, her body racked with grief.
‘Not knowing, it’s worse than death.’
Daniel held her close. ‘It’s the same for us all,’ he said, his tears mingling with hers. He helped her to her feet and together they slowly made their way home through the fading twilight.
It was night by the time they reached the small fishing village. They walked down the narrow cobbled street, past the shuttered cottages and the dark, uninviting inn. There was no-one about. Strangers were no longer welcome and the villagers had nothing to be merry about.
In their cottage Magda prepared a meal. She did not want to eat, but she knew if she did not, then Daniel would not eat either. So she ate and Daniel ate and the food tasted of nothing.
Early next morning Daniel and Magda went down to the quay where the fishing boats were waiting, eager to put to sea. More fish had been caught in the last year than ever before. Catches had doubled, trebled, quadrupled, yet there were few signs of the prosperity that such good fortune should bring. The fishermen saved their money to buy back the happiness they had sold to feed their greed.
Magda stood with the other women and watched in the pale morning light as the fishermen prepared to sail. She wondered if her message had been received, if it had been understood. Would he come? He’d promised he would return after a year and a day.
She heard a high-pitched sound, but it was a seagull crying in the wind. Again she heard a noise, but it was only a cat mewing. She picked it up and it purred in her arms. She looked at Daniel, but he shook his head and she put the cat down. It ran off between the waiting women and disappeared.
Then Magda heard another sound, the high, pure, sweet sound of pipes, like the sun sparkling on the water. She turned and there he was, standing in front of the boats, playing her pipes. He looked the same, dressed all in red and yellow, his straw-coloured hair hanging to his shoulders.
Magda couldn’t speak, only point. Daniel was by her side, holding her back as she tried to move. The people watched in silence as the piper walked towards them, still playing his sweet music.
He stopped a few feet away and said, ‘Has it been a good year? Have you prospered?’
Daniel stepped forward. ‘You know that we have. The fish leap into our nets wherever we cast them. We have become rich, but we have not spent our wealth. It is all yours. Everything we have is yours.’
He laid his full purse at the piper’s feet. The rest of the villagers laid their money down one by one.
‘Take whatever you want. Return our children, we beg of you.’
The piper laughed. ‘Now you offer money,’ he said. ‘Tell me, was our bargain worth it?’
He took up his pipes played a slow, haunting melody of unbearable sadness that made the villagers feel their grief anew. Before they had time to weep, the music changed. It had a stern theme that scolded them like a strict parent and they hung their heads in shame. The pipes fell silent for a moment and then began a merry song, a happy song like the sounds of children laughing and playing.
It took a few moments for the people to realise that it was the sound of children, their children. They came running down the cobbled street, laughing and crying for joy as they saw their parents once more.
Magda saw Adam, her only child, among them. She ran to him and picked him up, holding him close to her heart, tears of joy upon her face. Mothers and fathers reclaimed their lost children, rejoicing and weeping from happiness. They hugged and kissed their sons and daughters.
The piper was picking up his money and stowing it about his person. Magda saw him and she handed Adam to Daniel. She walked towards the piper, terrible in her hanger, yet ice-cold ion her rage. The piper looked up to see her and he smiled, a knowing smile, a sly smile. A year of anguish and torment welled up inside her and she struck out blindly at him. Shaken by the unexpected blow, he slipped on the cobblestones and fell, spilling the coins.
For a moment no-one moved. Then as one all the mothers relinquished their children to their fathers and advanced on the piper. The men turned their children away, so they could not see as the women wreaked their vengeance in a silence that made it all the more terrible. When their thirst for retribution was quenched, there was nothing left of the piper but his pipes. Pieces of his scarlet and yellow garments fluttered in the sea breeze and the cobbles glistened red. All the while the men had ignored such a dreadful sight as they hugged and kissed their long lost sons and daughters.
Magda picked up the pipes and walked to the edge of the quay. She flung them high in the air and they tumbled over and over, gleaming in the sunlight, until they fell into the sea, disappearing beneath the waves.
Magda tied her message to the dove’s leg and threw it high into the air. The small white bird circled her once and flew out to sea towards the setting sun. Standing alone at the edge of the cliff, she watched it until it was nothing more than a small dot in the coral-streaked sky.
‘My heart longs for you,’ she whispered. ‘My soul aches for you.’
A hand touched her shoulder. She turned and Daniel was there, his eyes reflecting her misery, his body reflecting her pain. She took his hand and they walked along the cliff path in silence until they reached the memorial to the lost children, a stone monolith with their names carved upon it.
Magda traced a name with her finger and then could bear it no longer. She sank to the ground, rocking back and forth, her body racked with grief.
‘Not knowing, it’s worse than death.’
Daniel held her close. ‘It’s the same for us all,’ he said, his tears mingling with hers. He helped her to her feet and together they slowly made their way home through the fading twilight.
It was night by the time they reached the small fishing village. They walked down the narrow cobbled street, past the shuttered cottages and the dark, uninviting inn. There was no-one about. Strangers were no longer welcome and the villagers had nothing to be merry about.
In their cottage Magda prepared a meal. She did not want to eat, but she knew if she did not, then Daniel would not eat either. So she ate and Daniel ate and the food tasted of nothing.
Early next morning Daniel and Magda went down to the quay where the fishing boats were waiting, eager to put to sea. More fish had been caught in the last year than ever before. Catches had doubled, trebled, quadrupled, yet there were few signs of the prosperity that such good fortune should bring. The fishermen saved their money to buy back the happiness they had sold to feed their greed.
Magda stood with the other women and watched in the pale morning light as the fishermen prepared to sail. She wondered if her message had been received, if it had been understood. Would he come? He’d promised he would return after a year and a day.
She heard a high-pitched sound, but it was a seagull crying in the wind. Again she heard a noise, but it was only a cat mewing. She picked it up and it purred in her arms. She looked at Daniel, but he shook his head and she put the cat down. It ran off between the waiting women and disappeared.
Then Magda heard another sound, the high, pure, sweet sound of pipes, like the sun sparkling on the water. She turned and there he was, standing in front of the boats, playing her pipes. He looked the same, dressed all in red and yellow, his straw-coloured hair hanging to his shoulders.
Magda couldn’t speak, only point. Daniel was by her side, holding her back as she tried to move. The people watched in silence as the piper walked towards them, still playing his sweet music.
He stopped a few feet away and said, ‘Has it been a good year? Have you prospered?’
Daniel stepped forward. ‘You know that we have. The fish leap into our nets wherever we cast them. We have become rich, but we have not spent our wealth. It is all yours. Everything we have is yours.’
He laid his full purse at the piper’s feet. The rest of the villagers laid their money down one by one.
‘Take whatever you want. Return our children, we beg of you.’
The piper laughed. ‘Now you offer money,’ he said. ‘Tell me, was our bargain worth it?’
He took up his pipes played a slow, haunting melody of unbearable sadness that made the villagers feel their grief anew. Before they had time to weep, the music changed. It had a stern theme that scolded them like a strict parent and they hung their heads in shame. The pipes fell silent for a moment and then began a merry song, a happy song like the sounds of children laughing and playing.
It took a few moments for the people to realise that it was the sound of children, their children. They came running down the cobbled street, laughing and crying for joy as they saw their parents once more.
Magda saw Adam, her only child, among them. She ran to him and picked him up, holding him close to her heart, tears of joy upon her face. Mothers and fathers reclaimed their lost children, rejoicing and weeping from happiness. They hugged and kissed their sons and daughters.
The piper was picking up his money and stowing it about his person. Magda saw him and she handed Adam to Daniel. She walked towards the piper, terrible in her hanger, yet ice-cold ion her rage. The piper looked up to see her and he smiled, a knowing smile, a sly smile. A year of anguish and torment welled up inside her and she struck out blindly at him. Shaken by the unexpected blow, he slipped on the cobblestones and fell, spilling the coins.
For a moment no-one moved. Then as one all the mothers relinquished their children to their fathers and advanced on the piper. The men turned their children away, so they could not see as the women wreaked their vengeance in a silence that made it all the more terrible. When their thirst for retribution was quenched, there was nothing left of the piper but his pipes. Pieces of his scarlet and yellow garments fluttered in the sea breeze and the cobbles glistened red. All the while the men had ignored such a dreadful sight as they hugged and kissed their long lost sons and daughters.
Magda picked up the pipes and walked to the edge of the quay. She flung them high in the air and they tumbled over and over, gleaming in the sunlight, until they fell into the sea, disappearing beneath the waves.