The Castle of No Love
If there are many corners of the Garden that have sunshine and flower, there are others where darkness falls in the daylight. I do not know of all these places in the Garden, but the one I fear the most is the Castle of No Love. You will not be eaten by wolves or over-sized birds. Or chased by crazed and angry gnomes. Yet all those who enter the Castle will lose themselves. Little by little they change until they can no longer remember who they are. Can you be rescued from such a place? I would like to think one day all the tortured souls will be released. Until then, I dare not venture in those parts for fear of entering the Castle by mistake.
From Mr. Whizz’s Notebook, Concerning the Garden, a thing rarum.
René had barely said goodbye to Mercedes and gone through the saloon doors out of the changing room, when he found himself in a dark forest.
He was lost and quite alone.
As a dancer, René considered himself a fit and able man. He prided himself on his stamina and grace of movement. But here in the forest he felt clumsy and awkward; he stumbled over roots and grew short of breath. Then he became angry with himself. This was ridiculous! What was wrong with him? – And, importantly, where was Mercedes? Why had happened to her? Where had she gone?
The question seemed to darken his thoughts. He thought of the dance club and the warmth of Mercedes’ smiling face, and then he looked round the forest and its dark unfriendly trees. Would he ever see her again?
He stopped and listened, but all he could hear was the rustling in the trees and a kind of muttering. The trees were undoubtedly evil. “Malédiction!” he cried in French. “Curse this place! Curse it!”
As he spoke, he caught his sleeve on a branch. When he tried to pull it away, the branch reacted by taking a swipe at him and scratched his face.
“Ouf!” he cried.
The scratch had drawn blood.
He shook his fist at the bad-tempered tree, which seemed to glower at him out of its gnarled trunk.
He began to run. Running from the trees; of course, all he did was run into more trees.
Out of breath, he stopped and held his knees. Still panting, he looked up and saw a strange light. He stumbled uphill and staggered towards it – tripping over tree roots and pushing back branches that flung themselves in his path.
He stopped, exhausted, and listened.
Someone among the trees was laughing. It was a cruel and sadistic laugh.
“Who’s that?” he cried.
There was no answer.
“Hey, you!” he cried. “Is someone there? – Malédiction! Stop playing games with me!”
René felt very alone. He wanted to burst into tears.
Finally, he looked up and saw what the light was.
It was the moon.
A wolf howled in the distance.
René put out his hand and groped around him. He felt a stone floor.
The flagstones glowed in the moonlight, and he could make out the jagged edge of a turret wall. Little by little, he realised he was in the ruin of a castle, overgrown with bramble and thorny tree, when he felt a cold breath upon him.
“Who are you?” said a voice.
“I am René,” he replied. “Where am I?”
“What are you doing here in my castle?” came back the voice.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your castle.”
“Did you think you could sneak up on me?”
“I didn’t sneak up on you.”
“What were you doing then trespassing?”
“I don’t know,” René said, stumbling over his words. “I was lost in the forest. There are so many trees around here, and it was so dark. Then I saw the light from your castle.”
The voice was silent, but René was aware of a figure in the shadows. If he could not see him, he sensed him, studying him, searching for weakness.
“I thought you said you did not know there was a castle here.”
“I didn’t. I mean I saw the light which I didn’t know was the castle. Naturally, I made for it.”
“You are beginning to contradict yourself,” said the voice. “How could you make for a castle if you didn’t know it was there?”
“Please,” said René, desperately trying to retrieve the situation. “If you had a minimum of compassion you would realise I did not mean to come here. I had no intention of disturbing you.”
“You had no intention of disturbing me, and yet you found your way into my castle.”
“That’s right, I did.”
“So you did intend to disturb me?
“No, I didn’t.”
“How could you find your way into my castle if you didn’t intend to disturb me?”
The questioning had been going on for what seemed like hours. René could take it no more. “This is crazy,” he said. “It’s not human.”
The voice was silent.
René sensed the figure in the shadows – a ruminating and malicious intelligence.
“What makes you think you are human?” the voice said finally.
René was taken aback.
He racked his brain for arguments – remembering something from school. It was in Latin: Cogito ergo sum. I think therefore I am.
“I have a mind,” he said. “I think and I am. I talk and I am. I talk and think and therefore I am.”
The voice snorted:
“There are plenty of creatures that can do those things. What else can you do?”
“I am a dancer. I can dance.”
“Prove it,” said the voice. “If you are human, you will be able to dance.”
René tried to get up only to find that he could not move. He tried to recall the rock steps and chasses, the steps of the cha-cha, but he could not remember them. They had gone from his mind.
The voice began to laugh. It was a cold, chilling laugh. It cut René to the bone.
“You see,” said the voice. “You cannot dance. Therefore, you cannot be human.”
René was overwhelmed with anguish. Then, he heard it again, the howl of the wolf…
The hot sun shone down on the gaggle of young bathers playing in the rock pool. Yet, strangely, he had no desire to join them.
“Go on! Splash me!” said one of the bathers.
“Better not splash too much!” said one of the others. “You know how the Mistress gets! She says if we splash too much, she can’t protect us.”
“Oh, honestly, can’t you forget about the Mistress for once? Or do you always have to be a goodie two shoes?”
“I am not a goodie two shoes.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I am not.”
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“Didn’t you hear it?”
“Spoilsport, come on!”
“Wait! I could have sworn I heard something!”
The young bather picked up a stone and threw it at the trees.
“What did I tell you? – It was nothing. Come back here and splash me.”
He did not wait to hear the rest of the conversation but turned and plunged into woods.
Soon he could no longer hear the voices of the bathers, nor see the light of the sun. With unerring instinct, he was able to dodge trees and jump over thickets. All the time the woods were getting darker and thicker and deeper when he heard a howling in the distance. He stopped and sniffed the air.
Then he caught their scent.
He began to run faster. He kept on running towards the howling beasts until, worn out and panting heavily, he collapsed on the ground.
The wolves surrounded him.
They approached and began to sniff him.
It felt surprisingly natural.
He began to howl.
And the wolves joined in.