"The sun rose in the west, bathing-"
"No, it didn't."
"Yes, it did," the storyteller said absently, raising his hands above his head and trying to paint the picture he was describing in the minds of the crowd. "As I was saying, huh-uhm. The sun rose gracefully in the west - "
"East."
"In the west, bathing the meadow I was in with beautiful brown light."
"Brown light?" Someone questioned.
"Brown light." The storyteller nodded in a matter-of-fact way. "For it was a brown sun. A big - "
"Brown sun?" The storyteller looked into the crowd to see who challenged him, but hundreds of innocent faces stared back at him.
"Yes, a brown sun. A huge brown sun that rose majestically from the west." And rightly so, the planet had been so strange. It was no wonder that everything was backwards on it.
"East."
"West."
"East!"
"West!"
"West!" The voice called back.
"East!" The storyteller roared. These people were impossible!
"Ah-ha! So it did rise from the east, and not from the west!"
"It rose from the west. Stop trying to confuse me!" The audacity that people found within themselves to question the storyteller of the King!
"But how could it rise from the west? It's not possible." The storyteller had had the same question when he first saw it too.
"Yes, it is." The storyteller harrumphed, pulling at his mustache and mopping his forehead with his sleeve. The disrespect was awful, people never used to question his stories before. He had been the best storyteller in the land at one time. This time, when the point of the story was critical, no one would listen to anything he had to say.
"No, it's not."
"Yes." Though his other stories were about the realm and not some far off planet. Most people had never even been into space, let alone another planet.
"No."
"It is so! It is, I tell you!" The evening sun was yet still fierce, and the storyteller was sweating profusely. He wiped the sweat off with a dingy gray cloth to calm his nerves and continued. "It rose from the west, just like out of a dream - "
"Maybe it was a dream!" A new voice called. A chuckle rippled through the crowd.
King Stephen held his realm in an iron fist, and iron fists had little in the way of entertainment. There had not been this much excitement in years, at least not for anyone in that fist. It was tightest right there in Rowin, the seat of the King's power. It was surprising that the King's Cloaks hadn't come and dispersed the crowd already. There were a few gathered around, but they were just listening.
"It wasn't a dream! It was real! It rose from the west in all its radiance - "
"A brown sun radiant?"
"and it - "
"Was brown, we know."
"Yes, you know." The storyteller took a few calming breaths. "Of course, you know." He hated interruptions, but the crowd was still attentive so he let the grievance go. He had to finish his story.
"I lay there, bathing in the brown sunlight - "
"There are no such things as brown suns." Again the crowd laughed.
"Blood and ashes! It was a bloody brown sun! Now let me continue!"
"A bloody brown sun? Wouldn't that make it red?" That was the only remark before the crowd quieted at the storyteller's anger. It was some time before he could continue.
"I lay there, sun bathing in the brown light of the brown sun. Oh, it was fabulous! Everywhere I looked there were trees and animals - none I've ever seen, mind you." There were animals that were grotesquely deformed and wreaked of decay, carnivorous plants that oozed blood to catch any unsuspecting prey. It was fabulous because it was different. It was fabulous because it was wild and yet untouched by the King's roving band of militant titans.
"He doesn't get out much does he?"
"Alien. New. Strange. I gathered up everything that looked even remotely edible - " Which wasn't much because everything was either bloody or else it tried to eat you when you picked it.
"We can tell!" Roared someone from the crowd.
The storyteller caught the speaker's eye and gave him a hard look, but he didn't bother to get upset. He was a man who liked to eat, that much was visible. Besides, he was used to the cruel japes about his weight.
"Was the food all brown?"
"Well it wasn't white or blue!" The storyteller laughed with the crowd.
"It tasted funny, but I didn't complain."
"I bet you didn't!"
"Why'd you eat it if it was brown? Don't you know that means it is rotten?"
"It was not." But that didn't keep it from smelling weird.
"Was."
"Not."
"And how would you know?"
"I'm a man who knows what is good to eat and what isn't."
"You are?"
"Yes!" He wondered whether they couldn't tell by looking at him.
"I thought you were a woman!"
"Would you bloody people just listen to me?!"
"Is that a threat? He called us bloody, ya hear? Do you mean to make us so, Storyteller?"
"I don't." He could see the crowd growing restless.
"But you know someone who does?"
"The aliens!"
"Are they brown?"
"Yes."
"So, everything on-?"
"They called it Bark." He explained, looking at the falling sun nervously.
"Right. So, everything on Bark was brown?"
"Yes." The storyteller was deeply relieved, it seemed like the crowd was actually starting to take him serious.
"And are they coming here?" The crowd hushed suddenly when the storyteller opened his mouth.
"Yes! Tonight! They come tonight!"
"Uh-huh. Captain! You heard it with your own ears! Get your guards together! This man has betrayed King Stephen, and announced to the aliens of Bark - who must be our sworn enemies because they haven't sworn allegiance to the King - our position! They will be attacking tonight! Arrest the traitor!"
"No!" The storyteller went to his knees. "I'm not!"
"So this is untrue?" Something about the way the speaker cocked his head to the side set the storyteller on edge.
"Yes!" He had seen that before. Like in a dream, a sudden fog descended in his head and he was back on Bark eating what tasted like a fruit. Then they were around him their heads cocking back and forth, like dogs that didn't understand what was going on.
"It is made up?" The accuser knew it wasn't. The storyteller saw that by his smug grin.
"Yes!" The guards moved forward. "I told them nothing!" The guards moved forward. "Him! He is one of them!!!! He is one of them!"
"Captain, this man is obviously delirious from the heat of our yellow sun. Please take him into custody and see that he is locked away somewhere that he cannot tell such stories."
* * *
"When they come, you will see!" The storyteller sobbed into his hands as his accuser watched, free as a bird.
"Oh, I know, Storyteller. You were right, it's too bad that no one would listen to you." The accuser laughed and plopped a bowl of brown fruit in front of him. "Something to remember us by."
"You will all see!" The storyteller whispered once more some time after everyone had left the jail cell under Rowin's castle.
And then the screams began.
© Stephanie Kidwell
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