Chapter 5 - Riwal and the cinnamon soup

Riwal has just finished eating and Juna has gone home,

It was another instructive day and after dinner he drank his digestive herbal-tea as usual.

He wonders how he is supposed to remember everything Juna teaches him every day.

His head is so full that he almost has a headache and he also feels unusually tired.

‘ I hope I don't get sick, now is not the best time for that. ’

Lost in his thoughts he does the dish-washing. The forest is slowly becoming quiet and soon the nocturnal creatures will wake up. The window above the sink is slightly open as he likes to have fresh air to sleep in.

The curtain bows open and a surprisingly spicy breeze blows in.

Somehow the forest is not as dark as it should be. Despite the cool air, he suddenly feels warm and the soil spins under his feet.

Dizzy, he thinks ‘ I must have a fever ’

He stares through the window again: he seem to hear bells.

The forest shimmers and the sound gets louder and louder. A flickering light becomes clearer and clearer: is the forest on fire?

He strains to see what is coming towards him. Because something is coming.

He doesn't know what, but anything is possible in Broceliande: a dragon, Nessie of Loch Ness or something similar.

Now he dares to go outside, he is too curious.

Swaying, he holds on to the railing of his terrace.

‘ What a fever can do... ‘ he thinks to himself ‘ I could swear there's a camel in front of me with a man in a turban on it. ’

Determined, he turns round again ‘ I really must go to bed now with a hot water bottle and I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow. ’

‘ Stop! Wait a minute,’ he calls after him.

‘ Now I even hear voices... How am I going to explain this to Juna again...? He sighs

‘ Hey! Can you hear me? ’

Riwal stands rooted to the spot, looking at his front door, not daring to turn round. Inwardly, his curiosity battles with his reason, which considers such a sight with a camel and an obviously Indian man impossible.

In the end, curiosity wins out and he turns round after all.

Now he can clearly see the camel's head and the Indian with his turban at the height of his terrace.

The camel is richly decorated with golden bells, which he has already heard from afar.

The Indian is wearing his turban and is dressed in a wide, colourful robe. He has a funny moustache and wears a thick scarf and many golden chains around his neck.

The fabric of his clothes is finely woven and interwoven with golden threads.

Every time he moves, he shimmers almost by himself.

He carries a silver lamp with orange lenses on a branch in front of him and the candle in it has an incredible glow.

In contrast, the light in his hut looks almost dark.

‘ Hello, I'm Riwal, how can I help you? ’

‘ How do you do, I am Ravi, travelling merchant from Ceylon in India and member of the caravan from the Far East. ’

‘ Caravan?! ‘ replies Riwal ‘ Is there still such a thing? ’

‘ Of course, where else do you think all your spices come from? I wouldn't be here if it wasn't worth it! ‘Business is business!’

Riwal mumbles: ‘ I'm not sure you're really here yet... ’

Aloud he says ‘ And where is the caravan, I don't see anyone but you. ’

Ravi: ‘ That's the problem, I lost them earlier. I was meditating on my camel and didn't see that my camel was no longer following the others. It was looking for water and drank at your stream. ’

Riwal tries to imagine how you can meditate on a camel. You actually have to sit still to do this and sitting on a camel with your legs crossed doesn't seem easy either.

As he can't even cross his legs himself, it all seems impossible to him.

‘ Boy, you're looking at me more and more incredulously... I'm really here, let me prove it to you. Do you know the spices from my homeland? What are you in the mood for right now? Pepper, ginger, vanilla...?

‘ Hush ‘ Riwal let out a loud sneeze.

‘ I'm sorry. ‘ He had only just managed to cover his mouth.

‘ Boy, Ravi has something for you! Your condition seems a bit shaky to me, is your head heavy and your limbs aching? ’

‘ Yes, exactly ‘ replies Riwal ’ finally someone who sees that he needs rest.

And Ravi pulls a red and gold flask out of his robe ‘ Smell me! ‘ it says.

‘ Here is a mixture of essences that will help you breathe. ’

It contains orange peel, cloves, eucalyptus, rosemary and, above all, cinnamon.

Together, the spices have been prepared in a special way. ’

‘ Smell it. ‘ commands Ravi

Riwal carefully opens the vial and is drawn far into the distance with a single breath.

He can now see the caravan in front of him and how it came from India. It has travelled further and further west through wind and weather, through deserts and steppes, through oases and rivers.

All the way to Broceliande.

There were 21 camels with various traders and fully packed. All the bags were overflowing with velvet and silk, jewellery, dried fruit, pickled herbs and magic potions.

Riwal comes back to himself in the forest and asks in amazement:

‘ Why are you travelling so far from India to here in Brittany? ’

‘ Because the mistletoe from Brittany is the best. Only druids can cut and prepare it properly. ’

‘ Something else to learn. ‘ Riwal sighs.

‘ But now back to the cinnamon ‘ Ravi interrupts him ’ Have you ever eaten cinnamon soup? ’

Before Riwal can answer, the merchant jumps off his camel and is immediately much smaller. His wide robe conceals a round belly and he is at least a head shorter than Riwal.

Riwal wonders how Ravi managed to get onto the camel's back.

The merchant nimbly climbs the steps of the terrace, a rolled rug and a bulbous leather bag under his arm.

He hangs his lamp on the gable of Riwal's hut and the terrace immediately becomes much more festive.

He unrolls the carpet and it immediately warms up under Riwal's feet.

The trader takes a folding table out of his leather bag. Riwal would never have thought that wood could be folded so many times.

The table is covered with a silky blue tablecloth with stars shining on it.

Ravi takes a rechaud and a copper pot from the leather bag.

Riwal can't stop marvelling... ‘ How can the leather bag be so spacious? ’

Every time he thinks that's it, the merchant pulls out something else.

Quickly his terrace looks like an oriental bazaar.

Now Ravi begins to prepare his cinnamon soup. He puts 1 cinnamon stick, a few cloves, 2 dried figs, a piece of ginger and some water into the copper pot.

Soon the spicy smell fills the whole forest.

At the edge of the forest, Riwal can see the eyes of the forest's nocturnal inhabitants in the darkness, watching as if they were watching a performance.

He can even see Juna sitting on her terrace from afar.

After a short time, the brew is ready and Ravi pours it into a clay pot. He takes a small spoonful and mixes it in a cup of warm water. Then he holds out the cup to Riwal.

Riwal carefully puts his lips to the cup. He takes small sips.

‘ That tastes delicious! ‘ he exclaims.

Gradually, he feels the warmth go through his body. The cinnamon flows through his veins like a new energy and his head already feels lighter.

‘And how do we find the caravan now?’ he asks between sips.

Ravi: ‘ Wait a little longer for the cinnamon soup to take full effect. ’

It's true, every sip seems to wake him up more and sharpen his senses.

Riwal becomes more and more confident.

‘ As a druid, you have special powers. ‘ says Ravi.

My name Ravi means ‘the sun’, which I always carry with me.

But as a druid you can do more than just the sun - you just don't know it yet.

Riwal is growing more and more beyond himself. As weak as he felt earlier, as strong he feels now.

He takes a deep breath and, as Juna has taught him, closes his eyes so that he can call upon his sixth sense.

Suddenly he sees the caravan in front of him again, not far from here.

Smiling, he thinks of the stinging nettle and how the camel must have crossed it.

‘ Are camels' legs sensitive?

‘ Lead me to them! ‘ asks Ravi, who knows that Riwal has managed to see the caravan.

As if in the wind, the carpet and the rest in Ravi's bag have disappeared.

Instead, he takes out a small ladder and now Riwal understands how to climb onto a camel.

It's surprisingly comfortable up here, there's enough room for two.

It rocks quietly and Riwal gradually gives direction.

Suddenly he sees a very bright light in the forest and looks towards it, blinking.

Riwal wakes up in his bed, which is in full sunlight. The effects of the cinnamon must have worn off at some point, because Riwal can't remember when they actually found the caravan.

But there is still a pleasant smell of cinnamon in his hut and on the kitchen table are the copper pot, the clay jar, the golden flask and a recipe booklet with a red lid.

Of course, there is also a packet of cinnamon sticks wrapped in a white cloth.

There is a small note with ‘Get well soon’ on it.

The booklet with the title ‘Cinnamon recipes’ lies on a few biscuits, also known as gingerbread.

‘ Wow, Ravi rocked it! I won't get sick that quickly again. ’

In the recipe booklet, one page is reserved for the effects of cinnamon:

-Cinnamon helps you stay strong

-Strong against intruders

-Cinnamon ignites the fire within you

-Cinnamon motivates you and brings the sunshine back into your life

‘ I will soon be making cinnamon soup for Juna too, ‘ says Riwal to himself.