The Hierophant was to tour the bridges and collect the tolls. There were many bridges that crossed the river to the city, and all of them had tax collectors. The Fool followed the Hierophant bridge to bridge.
Along the far side of the river, the Hierophant and the Fool ran into an actor standing at the shore looking distressed. He just stared down at three cups lying on their side with wine spilled out of them. The actor had a flamboyant cape and hat with a giant colorful feather sticking high into the air, but the actor’s face was sad and dejected.
What is wrong with you? The Hierophant asked the actor.
I have spilled three of my cups of wine, the actor responded without looking up.
There are two more cups on that stump behind you, the Fool added.
That is only two cups of wine, I wanted all five, the actor responded.
The Fool felt bitter towards the actor’s response. He will forgo two cups of wine because he can’t have all five? What an entitled person.
I can buy you three cups of wine back in the city, the Hierophant offered.
Thank you, the actor said, but I will just stay here and grieve my lost chalices of wine.
A breeze blew upstream and the Fool followed the breeze to a stone bridge that crossed back over the bridge to one of the citadels. There was a lovely weeping willow hanging over the river, brushing the surface of the water with its leaves. Some ducks were swimming in the shade of the tree. Everywhere else but where the actor stood was peaceful.
Don’t feel bad for me, the actor added, I spilled my cups. This was all my fault. I did this to myself. No one can fix this. I thank you for your concern, but I feel that nothing but the universe can help me.
Maybe we are the universe, the Hierophant offered, and we are letting you know to move on and live your life. Drink other cups of wine, drink the still standing cups of wine, and maybe sit in the shade of a beautiful dense weeping willow and put your feet in the cool river.
The actor shook his head, but he did smirk. He seemed to like the idea that the Hierophant and the Fool were representatives of the universe here to let the actor off the hook for spilling wine.
The shadows of the clouds lazily moved across the ground. The Fool could hear birds.
Well, the Hierophant added, we wish you the very best in your future endeavors, but we must be on our way. I am a tax collector and this is my pupil at the moment. I hope you find suitable replacements for those three chalices of wine that will whisk your dark memories away. The Hierophant swept his hand with the current of the river in illustration of his point.
The Fool and the Hierophant walked to the stone bridge and found a troll waiting for them at the foot of the bridge. He held a metal box that was locked.
Here are my take, sir, the troll said to the Hierophant.
The Hierophant accepted the box and opened it with one of his keys that hung at his side. He saw that there were gold coins, but there were rocks, leaves, sticks, and some odd items in the box.
Not everyone use gold to pay their tax, the Heirophant said as he fingered his way through the box, Sometimes the crosser has nothing but a tale.
The Hierophant pulled out several bones that had runes carved on the side.
These each represent a story that someone told to cross the bridge, the Hierophant said fanning the bones out, each will be added to our library back in the city.
They looked back and saw that the actor stood there looking down at his spilled wine and three cups. The two cups behind him remained unmolested. The sun was lower and the Heirophant thanked the troll and the Fool followed him across the bridge back to the city.