Twin Rose

A fairy tale for adults

©Copyright 2005 N8Dreams, All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.

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*

The old woman looked through the smoky haze that tried to find it's way out of the thatched roof of her hut. She was staring intently at the young girl who sat patiently in one of the shadowy niches of the hut. The smoke swirled around the young girls head but she looked deeply into the old woman's eyes.

"So, you want me to tell you another story, do you, little one?" The old woman looked down her long nose toward the girl.

The young girl nodded her head slowly, knowing full well that she was about to get her wish. She knew that the old woman liked to tell tales of the tribe. She loved to tell of the things that she had been part of.

"Yes, dear godmother, you know I love all the stories you have in store..."

The woman looked at the girl's freckled face and took a breath.

"Look closely then," The old woman said as she began to stir the cauldron with her staff. Stirring it until the liquid cleared and a picture formed in it.

~*~

She had big, green, iridescent eyes like those of a doe. Her ears were elfin-like and elongated. She had dark tanned skin and ebony hair cascading down her back to her waist. She was still a girl, of course, but already she was endowed with all the female attributes of the women of her tribe.

Her hands were shackled at her back. She trembled all over but not from cold.

The guards pushed her towards into what looked like a loamy courtyard where a wooden framed platform stood in the center of the yard. Big boulders placed loosely in a circle surrounded the platform. At each corner of the platform stood torches with a stone table in front of the platform, where the jury was seated.

At the outer edge of the flickering torches' light she could see the grim faces of the spectators that had come to bear witness. It doesn't happen every day the defendant was a young girl. How would she react? Beg for mercy? Or scream and cry? Lose all her composure?

She was prodded from behind to stand in front of the three black hooded judges.

"Order in this court!" The chairman grinned malevolently, as he slammed his wooden gavel onto the desk. The gawking crowd felt silent.

"On your knees and confirm your name " boomed the judge.

The girl took another breath and sank down to her knees answering the judge. Her voice faint and trembling.

"Have mercy..."

"Shut up, girl!" instructed the judge, pausing briefly to look the girl up and down. Her whole body trembled before the council's high court, waiting to be sentenced.

"You are charged with 'Grave Sexual Offenses'. Do you confess your crimes?"

With bowed head, her tear-filled eyes lowered and her cheeks blushing with shame, she whispered: "I did nothing wrong. But if your Honor likes to call what I did a crime..."

"A crime? It's a deadly sin! You just won't listen to reason!" the judge cried. "This woman has witnessed your attempt to commit incest!" he pointed at the courts chief witness.

"Never! My brother always cared for my virginity!"

"What would you call what this woman saw?"

"I did a favor for my brother, as he did for me...we had some innocent fun"

"You were caught red handed relieving your brother of his vital life fluids!"

"I stroked his genitals, yes, that's right, to give him some relief. He isn't allowed to...."

A gasp of horror came from the spectators. She could hear vague derisive mumbling behind her. She was glad her parents weren't here.

"Are you pleading guilty or not guilty? " asked the judge immediately.

"Sir I'm not guilty I should not be..."

"Shut up slut. You are admitting your crime by yourself. Guilty." He slammed down the gavel again.

"Have mercy, please Sire," she begged. "I promise, I'll never do it again!" The terror mounted in her eyes as she choked back tears. She felt every one of her heartbeats.

"Too late for any regrets. You are sentenced to the usual punishment. There is no exception in cases like yours. Even if you are the daughter of our leader. There is no place in our tribe for hookers like you. You'll suffer a slow death. That is the usual procedure. So it has been written."

She cried out in disbelief, her eyes glazed over in a dull state of shock and she wanted to slap her hands on her face to hide her shame, but that was impossible. She knew what was facing her.

"Look at me. I'm still such a young girl. Let me go. I promise I'll never come back. But let me alive," she begged.

"The sentence will be carried out at once. Next case."

The masked official pulled her up to her feet, gripping her firmly by her upper arms, handed her over to the waiting guards and they led her away. Her breasts shook and her butt cheeks tensed involuntarily as her mind dwelled on the impending execution.

Suddenly, an old woman walked towards to the maiden. She was the High priest-doctor of the village, a witch all the people thought, well known for her magic love-potions and her prophecies. And she told her prophecies regardless of the consequences, making her feared and hated by the people of the village. Because of her hissing speech her nickname was "The Serpent". The people shunned her because of other rumors that she also 'helped' unhappy maidens.

The maiden had spent many hours with the old witch. She was the strongest woman in a village dominated by the men of the council. She had told the old woman of her strange dreams, and in turn the old woman had interpreted the dreams for the maiden.

"Help me," the sentenced maiden desperately begged the haggard old witch.

The old witch moved up to the maiden, and held out her staff, shaking it so that the rattle on the end of the staff made a loud buzz. She looked silently at the guards, stopping them in their tracks. She looked at the maiden with a look of love and under­standing.

"If you meet a stranger, eat an apple and lose your verginity before dusk, you will be saved," she hissed at the young maiden.

Then she turned and vanished back into her hut.

She limped toward the middle of her hut, knocking aside one of the many chickens that lived in the hut with her. She reached forward with her gnarled, skinny claw of a hand and swirled the scum off the top of her cauldron, muttering an obscure magic spell.

~*~

The big, long-distance truck had been designed like a motor home. It had room in the back half of for carrying livestock and the front half of the truck was used by the driver as his living quarters. Now the truck carried four horses, a stallion, a mare and two fillies. From her restless stomping and whining the driver suspected that the mare was just coming into season. The animals destination was somewhere in Arabia, for breeding.

The road was a winding, serpentine one. When driving this stretch of road you had to be ever watchful. Boulders rolled down from the side of the mountains and if they hit the side of any car or truck the vehicle and the occupant would be over the side of the road and down into a deep, bush-covered ravine and possibly into the deep river that flowed through the ravine. Probably never to be found again. But up ahead, in the lakes region, the road straightened out some and the road workers had built fences to stop the boulders from crashing down.

I was really in a piss-poor mood. I still had a hangover from the drinking I'd done last night. And there was no service area in sight. But I had to feed the horses every three hours and give them some rest. I had been strictly ordered to take extra good care of the valuable freight. So I stopped the truck in the stretch of unpaved road that runs alongside Lake Waneka, stepped out of the truck and lit a cigarette.

After I had refilled the water troughs, put out more hay for the horses and butted out my cigarette, I took the time to look around.

It was a still, clear summer day. A soft breeze carrying the smells of wild flowers in bloom wafted around me. Enough of that fresh air and my head would be clear again. Sometimes, just standing in one spot and letting the sunshine on you is enough.

On the side of the highway away from the lake, there was impenetrable dark green undergrowth. But on looking closer I could just make out an opening to a path in the bush. It was a dark, gloomy overgrown path. It was narrow and certainly not suited for a car.

"No thoroughfare. Trespassers will be prosecuted," read the old sign, almost completely hidden by large fern leaves.

"Will the path lead to a meadow where I could set the horses free for a short rest?" I asked myself.

A heavy truck passed, roaring by in a cloud of dust and small stones. It felt good to hear this thundering noise and feel it vibrating through my gut, like a sign of life. Then there was silence again.

Cautiously, but with great curiosity, I took a few steps forward and entered the path. It looked like an enchanted path out of a fairy tale. Or perhaps it was leading to a fairy tale?

The forest muted all noise including my own footsteps. Between the stumps at the side of the road there were roots reaching across the ground, like stiffened snakes, trying to block my entrance to the path.

I had walked the first 20 yards down the path and turned to look back. I could still see the entrance to the path. Then the light in the forest faded to a dark green, then into darkness. It was as if the forest wanted to close the door, now that it had let me in. A used, brown napkin jumped across the entrance of the path and vanished without any sound between the trees. Above my head birds whooshed through the tree limbs and with every step I took my body pulled through slender spider webs. A strange fragrance floated around my head.

Something rustled behind me and I turned around. From out the corner of my eye, I saw a movement almost behind me, darting behind a great tree - I whirled, but there was nothing. Just a complete silence, except for the birds.

I went on, a little faster, there was another soft noise behind me, a rustling breeze that stopped as I did, and again - nothing. I felt a quivering in my legs, and a strange throbbing in my chest - but walked on, breathing deeply and determined to show no fear. I was ready for the worst, a wild animal or a mad hermit, for instance. My heart beat strongly in my ear, but slowed down at once as I saw it was a little rabbit that had frightened me. I laughed at myself.

Moving forward became more and more difficult, the path became even more heavily covered with leaves that made the path difficult to recognize. My feet padded deep in the protective cover on the wet forest floor. Branches reached out to grab my arms and legs, whipping at my face. Sometimes I saw what I recognized to be hoof marks buried deep in the soft path of this forest. I was right; horses had been through here before.

This was a game path that hadn't been used for years by humans. I thought that perhaps I was the first human to walk it. I was prepared to meet anything round the next turn in the path.

The bright blue sky had been blocked out, hidden by the overhead canopy of trees. Only small fingers of filtered light helped to show the apparent endless path. The path slowly wound on.

Smaller paths led off the path I was on, but I kept on this path. It seemed to be the easier to follow. I wish that I had something to mark my trail with. Then I thought of my footprints, pressed into the soft rotting leaves that covered this particular path. I turned to assure myself and watched as my last few footprints dissolve and disappear into the rotting mulch. It might be difficult to find my way out of this forest.

Twice when I climbed a small hillock I hoped to see some trace of humanity or a clearing but I only saw more trees and a small lake. I didn't trust the water with its golden tinge and a peculiar rippling surface. As I walked on, I kept imagining that I heard some voices behind me, whispering voices like those of children. But each time I turned I was met with complete deafing silence. Nothing but the birds in the canopy overhead.

Dammit, I didn't have time to play tag with a bunch of poor gypsy kids in the deepening twilight of the forest!

I shouted "Anybody here?" but there was no answer, there was nothing, not even the buzzing of insects on this summer afternoon. A strange stillness surrounded me. I heard a noise from the distance. If I hadn't known better I would have sworn that it might be the horses, but they were behind me.

The sun must have been at its zenith, the oppressive heat in the forest and the golden sunbeams reaching down through the foliage making the sweat trickle down my back

I took off my shirt, dragged it across my back to dry and wrapped it around my waist. The forest's hot, damp air made my pants stick to my skin and the heat seemed to intensify the tingling electric sensation creeping through my entire body.

There wasn't a breath or air, although a heavy scent, like a cloud of perfume, escaped from the oft and watery floor of the forest. The trees, with their branches and foliage opened up like a green tunnel. It was a canopy through which vision was difficult to penetrate, leaves covered every square inch. This was a forest that was old and strong, primeval.

Exotic bright flowers began to appear along the path and filled the air with their pollen. Strange looking butterflies fluttered from flower to flower crossing the path in front of me. They seemed to be escorting me for a time, showing me the right way. The butterflies lightly touched my naked skin and fluttered away again.

Mushrooms of all sizes spread on the ground on either side of the path. Not simply brown ones but in all colors, red, spotted and in blue. I had never seen blue mushrooms!

I continued on through the forest, branches and thorns reaching out and grasping at my body and face. This place wasn't going to beat me.

On some level, I knew that the woods around here shouldn't be this large, that even if I'd been going through them at the thickest part of the forest I would get out eventually. But the woods just went on and on, and there was no end to them.

I forgot the time and after what seemed to be hours of walking the illumination of the path brightened up. Was I wrong or was the scent around me changing? Turning to a strange perfume of musk? At last I reached the forest's edge. I rounded the last bend in the path and the trees gave way to a meadow.

~*~

I know it's not a disgrace for a girl to weep. Tears built into small puddles in the corner of my eyes, as I contemplated my fate. Maybe this was the council's idea of justice but not mine and I wasn't aware I had done anything wrong. I had only played an innocent game with my brother, as we had often done. Of course he had told me to say nothing to anyone but I never understood the reason. And now I was going to die, simply because of my lack of understanding!

The guards and executioner had left me, now I was alone, awaiting my cruel fate. My wrists were securely fixed behind my back and a short rope was tied to my neck, up to a large branch above my head where it had been tied securely. Its purpose was wicked and efficient. As my legs got weaker and give way, I would strangle myself to death.

I couldn't stop my tears. Tears of fear, anger and frustration. It was so unfair! I was being punished and yet my brother not. Why did my tribe punish women and men not? Still I was convinced we hadn't done anything wrong. We had only given a favor to each other. What was wrong with that? Why we couldn't do what we liked? I sighed.

How long could I stand?

When would my legs give way?

When would the rope close my windpipe so that I would fade away?

It went through my mind that perhaps I wouldn't fade away softly and in peace. Would I first die of thirst or be strangled to death?

Ironically beneath my feet apples lay but they were all out of any reach.

The choking of the rope and the urge for air kept pulling me back up on my legs, again and again, I would struggle for my life until my limbs failed completely, becoming weak without any strength left and I would choke to death.

I shuddered at that thought.

I looked around but there was no one to help me. And I remembered the old woman's prophecy:

I needed a stranger,

I needed an apple,

I must loose my virginity.

Without these things I had no chance and was lost. Always the good old Serpent has been right.

~*~

I'm not an apprehensive man, but the whole scene, stretching out before me, looked a little bit uncanny. I stopped and I looked around me cautiously. Trying to find an elevated position so that I might get a wider view of the meadow stretching out before me.

I began to climb the small hill at the edge of the clearing. Halfway up the hill, I heard the sound of horse hooves on hard ground. In the middle of the meadow there was a lone tree. I saw standing behind the large tree there, a horse bound to one of the limbs. The horse moved restlessly and its ebony tail snapped from side to side, revealing its supple back. I stopped trying to move silently. The animal looked like a pedigree horse.

I was concerned that whoever had left the horse on such a short lead - might come back and think I was up to no good, perhaps trying to steal the animal.

Who would tie this magnificent animal on such a short lead and then leave it alone? It must have been those gypsy kids that were teasing me back in the forest. But what would they be doing with a horse such as this?

I admired the animal's fine bones and lightness of foot as it pranced on its little hooves from right to left and back again. All four pasterns and fetlocks were bright like it was wearing white socks. A bushy mane covered its neck. Then, I heard something completely out of place. I heard a sound like someone sobbing. I looked around, but there was no one or nothing else in sight except the slender horse and me. I saw that she was a mare as she turned and I saw her lack of a flap on her belly.

I moved forward to see if perhaps there was someone standing behind the tree. Someone that I couldn't see.

Again, I heard something like a choked sobbing.

Had I heard a weeping mare? Could I trust my ears? Did the over­whelming perfume, of the forest, befuddle my mind and dull my senses? Or had I suffered a heatstroke, making me mad?

Before I had a chance to search further for the origin of the weeping noise the horse suddenly turned round.

I couldn't say whose surprise was bigger. Hers, when she turned and saw me – or mine when I saw all of her. With my eyes wide open and my mouth open in amazement, I starred at the creature – half human, half equine.

It was a Centaur. A Centaurean woman, a mythical creature.

Her composure came back quickly as her eyes moved up and down me, trying to under­stand this creature standing before her.

I looked on in astonishment at this creature with the large, green hypnotic eyes staring at me. She had tiny ears that were shaped like an elfs' would be. Her upper body was darkly tanned and ebony hair crowned her head and flowed down to her waist. The hair on her head matched the hair that was her tail.