9. The Result
As Behdo passed the gates, his eyes were fixed on the colorful and elegant mosaic below him. As if, if he just didn’t look, all those other hundred Companions would no be there. Then he merely needed to cast his vote before the Wise Owl and then quickly run away.
But, well, where was the Wise Owl? It felt even sillier to accidentally cast a vote before a tree or a rock.
He gathered his courage, looked up and saw hundreds of eyes—
Twenty eyes. Just ten Companions.
Only ten animal species thought this vote worthy of their attention? Where were all the others? Had they already voted and then instantly left?
Currently, it was a tie. Five votes for and five votes against. The species who were in favor of the law, where mostly known as farmers, and they placed their necklace high. The others, including the giraffe and the red panda, did nothing—to indicate they were against.
A grey owl landed before him and studied the necklaces. “You … you are no bear. Nor a snow leopard.”
“Oh, this? This, erm, I don’t know how this ba-necklace came here. The leopards obviously do not vote. Do they even exist anymore? I don’t ba-think so.”
Behdo took the metal engraving of a snow leopard between his teeth, then tossed it aside. It landed in a river, but a dolphin surfaced to save it.
“I belong to Himnib’s herd.” Behdo swallowed. The sound echoed against the stands and somehow returned to his ears amplified. He bleated nervously, until he looked into the kind eyes of the Wise Owl. He didn’t have to fear those. Sheep trusted any creature who truly loved them.
“I received ba-permission to vote for the Bears. They vote against.”
“Good,” spoke the owl softly.
“Good? You are supposed to be unbiased!”
Behdo couldn’t see which proponent of the law yelled this.
“Good,” she repeated, “because this simplifies the vote. That’s 6 votes against, 5 for. The law has been repealed.”
“Pardon me?” a horse yelled. “You keep changing the rules! Since when can a sheep vote for the bears? And he clearly stole the leopard’s necklace. Stealing from a Companion means a punishment of—”
The Wise Owl rubbed her wings over her forehead.
“What silly animal,” she loudly declared, “would steal from Companions and then neatly bring it back to the place where all Companions are expected to be?”
“This is foul play,” a Prima added. “Where are all the other Companions? Those … those shepherds must have threatened them all and told them not to come!”
The giraffe rolled her eyes and slammed her neck into a tree to get attention. “Until the red panda told me, I had forgotten that shepherds existed!”
Behdo looked around him. All animals present belonged to a species that he regularly ran into during their travels. Species that actually knew what a shepherd was and frequently saw one.
Everyone else had forgotten their existence. For the shepherds had no homes or cities, no wagons or possession, no fixed place or trade routes. All the other animals didn’t know what the law was about or didn’t care enough to come.
“Both laws?” Behdo asked. “Both repealed?”
“Yes.” The owl flew to the raised podium that contained the throne, which she rarely used, because she was an owl. “The shepherds still have to ask permission before entering a new territory. But they won’t be disproportionally punished and it’s still allowed to “possess” a herd.”
“I want a new vote for the second law,” the red panda said. “Not all animals accept being someone else’s possession. Most don’t, in fact. They won’t choose it voluntarily.”
“You talk of the slaves from Amor,” the owl spoke carefully. “But those are criminals. Committing a crime makes you lose all your rights.”
“Won’t succeed,” a Prima added, as he already left the stands. “Too valuable. All animals who possess slaves will vote against the law, of course.”
“Then I will keep proposing it, over and over, until everyone realizes this is not natural,” the red panda said.
That just made the other Companions laugh, as they left the Council as if they were the best of friends and this was just a fun excursion. The owl sounded the bell. The day was over and the vote was final.
When only Behdo and the Wise Owl remained, new footsteps echoed through the gate.
Solong stormed into the Council, a snow leopard at her heels. Both were covered in twigs and flowers—and very tired. Shortly after, Himnib hobbled through the gate as well, supported by a few of those bandits and his beloved Behdiël.
“Behdo! My woolly friend!” Himnib stumbled towards him and raised him for a warm hug. Not wise, as they were now both on the floor, destroying a careful collection of plants from around the whole world. “You saved us! I may keep my herd and keep traveling as a shepherd!”
He only stopped rolling around once he saw Solong. Her face lit up, hopeful against better judgment.
“You … remember me?” she asked, as if she were a shy little girl again.
“I … do?”
Himnib tapped against his own temple, as if he feared a different head had been placed on his body. The blast from the walking cane, caused by Behdo, had moved something previously immovable in his mind. Or simply given him a terrible concussion.
“You’re the third shepherd,” he mumbled. “How could I have forgotten you? So … sonja? Soria?”
Solong screamed with joy and ran into Himnib’s arms. “Close enough. Close enough.”
He held her tightly. Something had awoken in him, something suppressed long ago. “How …”
“It’s a long story.”
“And my herd? Oh demigods, did I steal them from—”
“They were always yours to begin with, you simply forgot. Another long story. But I’d love to tell you as we travel together from now on.”
“Yes. Yes, I’d like that.”
A grumpy Lazpard walked around them to speak to the Wise Owl. As he passed, he fished for his own soaked necklace and returned it to his neck.
“As I should, Aria,” Lazpard said, “I will accept the result. But know that many animals will not be happy about this. If we do not want to go down like the gods, we shall have to avoid making the same mistakes. I expect subsequent law proposals to be treated with more severity.”
He turned to Himnib, who rolled through the Council with Behdo in his arms, and then to a beaming Solong who studied the flowers from up close. “From now on, animals should not be allowed to vote for other species. And Bears are only allowed a single Companion, like everyone else.”
“Fine,” Solong and Himnib said simultaneously.
“We don’t want it anymore,” they said simultaneously again.
The Wise Owl seemed to grow gray feathers on the spot. “The bears can’t have zero Companions!”
Solong and Himnib held each other upright, as they trudged to the throne and lay down their necklaces. “Sweet Aria, feathered friend. There is no use keeping these things if we never intend to show up again.”
When Aria realized they meant it, her beak refused to shut.
“You are leaving?”
“This is goodbye,” Solong said. “We want to travel the world and visit nature.”
“I am done with all your laws, cities, borders, and sneaky plans,” Himnib said. “Give me the freedom of nature, nights underneath the stars, and a sheep for cuddling.”
“Holding life in your arms one moment,” Solong added, “and feeling it slip away the next.”
“The beautiful, safe silence of a sleeping herd just before sunrise.” Himnib smiled at Solong and grabbed her hand. “I don’t want to be called back to the Council all the time, which means I can’t travel further than Sommer and its surroundings.”
The last part was more mumbled than spoken. “I also don’t know if the Council and its punishments were ever a good idea.”
His snout bumped against Aria’s beak. “This is goodbye.”
Lazpard grinned. “Zero Bear Companions is fine by me!”
Aria planted a kiss on their forehead and accepted the necklaces. “One stays, the others must be destroyed.”
Hirdi and his Sheepdog ran through the Council and peed over every wooden pole they found.
Himnib endlessly stroked Behdo’s fur. “Who knows,” he said. “In ten years, another forgotten shepherd appears. Maybe Jorib still lives, or Bellib. Then you have your new Companion, oh highness.”
“Not highness to you,” Aria spoke softly. “Not for the Bearchitects. I, for one, do not forget what you’ve done for the world. How you’ve built this entire Council, with bear hands and bear wood. I wish you well.”
The simple shepherd, dear reader, will not fill the history books. You won’t find anything by them, except for perhaps a trail of fields eaten bare. But even that regrows quickly. And thus the simple shepherd is the only species that didn’t leave a permanent footprint on this planet. If everyone were a shepherd, if you ask me, many problems would be solved!
That is why I tell his story. I had almost forgotten it myself.