Raven and Rue // Lindensea 1

Chapter 1: Boy, Bird, and Beast

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away lived a little boy named Pip Lenoir, and he had everything that his heart could desire. He lived with his mother and father in a big house in the country, surrounded by a moat on which to sail an armada of toy ships, with a bridge over it leading to a garden to play in, and a farm that they owned. Pip's father didn't work the farm. He leased it to a man named Mr Fairfield, and made money from it that way.

Nearby was a forest where Pip learned to climb trees and swim in the river, and he made up a lot of games he could play by himself there. One day he might pretend he was a pirate captain and the tall tree he was in was his galleon. Another, he would be a jungle explorer hunting for tigers.

One morning, when Pip had just turned seven, he ran very fast to his mother, who was picking a basket of irises and white roses to put in vases around the house. He had run so fast that his face had gone pale rather than red, his blue eyes looked huge, and he was gasping for breath.

"Mama, Mama! I said hello to a raven on the hedge, and the raven looked at me, and it said hello back! It spoke to me, Mama!" Pip flopped on the ground, unable to go on.

Pip's mother pressed her hands to her breast as she knelt beside him, saying in hushed delight, "Oh, how precious! And did the flowers talk to you as well, or the wind whisper a lovely secret?"

"Don't be silly, Mama," said Pip disdainfully. "I only talked with a raven, not to flowers or the wind."

"My darling boy has got such a beautiful imagination," said his adoring mother. "Come and kiss your Mamakins."

Pip dutifully kissed his mother, but he felt she had missed the point of his story, or didn't quite believe it. It was almost as if she thought this was something he was making up, but Pip knew the difference between a pretend game, like being a pirate or an explorer, and something real, like a raven talking to him. Those were only in his mind, this really happened.

He walked over to the paddock near the house, where his father was breaking in a new horse. Pip decided not to sound too excited this time, and instead told his father quite matter-of-factly about the bird speaking to him, and what a surprise it had been. He explained that Mama seemed to think he had imagined it, but it had really happened.

"Pip, I won't tolerate liars," said his father sorrowfully. "A true gentleman never lies. If nobody can trust his word, he is worth nothing. Come here."

Pip came closer, not knowing what was coming next, but he soon discovered that Come here meant he was going to get a riding crop switched hard against the back of his legs.

"I don't like to punish you, Pip, but it's my duty to teach you right from wrong, and it's wrong to tell lies," said Pip's father sternly. "Now go inside and stop crying. Gentlemen don't cry. That's for simple folk and silly girls."

Pip went into the kitchen where Mrs Bennett was preparing the midday dinner. She was the old woman who did the cooking and cleaning for them, and Pip was secretly a little frightened of her, because she was as wrinkled and brown as a walnut, and had sharp black eyes that seemed to miss nothing – they certainly never missed Pip if he ever tried to sneak a currant behind Mrs Bennett's back.

"Why the red eyes, laddie?" she asked, rolling out the pastry for a steak and kidney pie.

"I told Mama a raven talked to me, and she thought I was pretending, and then I told Papa, and he whipped me for being a liar," said Pip bitterly.

"And what other animals have you spoke to beside the wee corbie?" asked Mrs Bennett.

"None," said Pip, sitting sulkily down on a kitchen stool.