Part Eleven

A note on money in Oggland: All money is referred to as “coin”, there are just two denominations, Gold Coin and Silver Coin and their value fluctuates according to who you may be dealing with at any time. All the coin was left by the Romans who were the only ones who knew how to produce it and as such, hording or keeping large amounts of coin is viewed as very bad form, saving is almost unheard of and would it be viewed as very, very bad form.

Oggin woke very early, in fact the light of dawn hadn’t really decided if it wanted to come out yet but as the moon needed a kip, it didn’t have much choice. As the sun was yawning and stretching its way skywards, even the clouds had failed to arrive, it was fundamentally morning but in a sluggish kind of way. Oggin laid in his bed, scratching himself and kicking at the cats whilst thinking through the day ahead. Seeing as it was Middleday, he would normally take a day off but he had Wolf Woman’s sack barrow to return and he’d promised to fix The Mammies’ second best washing line sometime and he knew Kajoa’s good mood would evaporate if it wasn’t done quite soon.

Suddenly, with a flourish, he threw back his sleep sacks and jumped up, he put on his fourth best fixing trousers, the ones with the extra deep pockets, and a Beaver Wool sweater. He looked down at his feet and decided that his toenails would have be done on End-day and no later, or the mats would start to suffer again. Arriving in the kitchen Oggin found a mug of tea and a plate of six boiled eggs waiting on the table. Propped against the mug was a note, it said “shopping” and “washing line” on it, his heart sank a little. This meant that Kajoa had been up before him and was now on her way to That Village for the shops and would not be back till late and inevitably have another knick-knack with her when she returned, slightly drunk, as always. Kajoa’s knick-knack collection was one of the largest in the village and something of a talking point in the pub when the women got together over a tankard of light ale. She of course would puff up with pride but Oggin knew that a few more would mean he’d have to build another room for the bloody things to live in. He stood at the table, slurped his tea and consumed two eggs, still thinking about what he’d do when The Postman knocked at the front door.

Now, in Oggland most of the population were illiterate so the written word was very seldom used. In fact in some places it was considered a “black art” and much frowned upon. To overcome this shortcoming, each village had a postman. Each morning, he (or sometimes she), would stand at the village ‘meeting post’ and wait for custom. If you had a message for someone else in the village but no time to go and tell them yourself, you told the Post-Person what it was and they would ‘deliver’ it for you. The chief qualification for a Post-Person was a good memory and a nosy nature was frowned on. Oggin opened the front door to be greeted by the village Postman, Ted, dressed in his uniform of blue jacket and trousers.

“Morning Ted...what you got for me...?”

Ted removed his blue felt hat and spoke in a flat monotone.

“From Tookie the Boog....To Oggin the Ogg....Go to Greedle the Bronze’s place as quick as you can...there’s been trouble....”

“Right you are Ted...” replied Oggin, slipping a coin into his outstretched hand, as was the custom, since both the sender and the receiver paid a small amount, junk mail hadn’t been invented yet. Oggin wandered back to the kitchen in a newly thoughtful mood and finished his tea, he stuffed the other four eggs into his pocket and set off to see this “trouble” for himself.

He cut straight across the green, Evan the Sheep Worrier was kneeling beside one of his flock, apparently whispering to it but Oggin took no notice and kept on walking. As he approached Greedle’s place he could see a few of the villagers standing around in deep conversation and to one side the figure of Tookie the Boog. She was dressed in a seemingly very modest ankle length light blue dress, with long sleeves and a high collar. It wasn’t till he got closer he could see that the ‘modest’ dress was completely sheer and she was very obviously not wearing anything under it. As Oggin got near he could see to his total surprise that the iron gate to Greedle’s was gaping wide open. Tookie caught sight of him and turned to speak, her face was white and had a worried expression.

“Oggin...tis terrible so it is....”

Oggin motioned her to keep quiet and pushed through to the front of the small crowd. Indeed, the big iron gates were hanging open and Oggin could see a wisp of smoke coming from the direction of the cottage behind them. He cautiously looked around the gate and was greeted by a scene of devastation and bloodshed. The garden had been wrecked, all the statues were gone or broken, the three huge dogs laid dead, butchered, their blood seeping into the tiled floor. Smoke curled out of the front door and was blackening the veranda front. There was no sign of life from the building so Oggin walked up to look in the doorway, the house had been gutted, not a stick of furniture had been left, everything was gone. Although he could no sign of flames, Oggin decided he wouldn’t venture inside and retreated back outside where he grabbed Tookie by the arm and almost marched her away from the murmuring crowd, he could feel the eyes following him as he left but took no heed. He spoke in a low but urgent whisper.

“Tookie...what happened here....tell me what you know....!”

“I don’t know nothin’ Oggin I swears it....I woke las’ night an’ hear’d a commotion comein’ from over here loike an’ looks out’a da wind’a an’ I sees loights an such...an’ carts an’ dat sort’a ting...an’ I figures dat it’s nothin’ to de wit me...so i goes back te me bed an’ pulls the covers over me head...!”

“Tookie the Boog...listen to me and you heed me well...go home and stay there...say nothing of what you saw...you hear me...nothing..!”

“I’ll do dat Oggin.....I’ll be doin’ dat alright...”

Oggin watched as she scurried away, back to her cottage and then turned to walk home again. This was a bad situation and not just for him, despite the fear and distrust she was held in, Greedle the Bronze, in her own way provided a lot of coin and a lot of work for the village and her sudden disappearance would have far reaching consequences. He needed time to think this through and decide what to do, indeed, if there was anything he could do. Suddenly a new thought struck him, if Greedle had gone and in some way taken her ‘business’ with her, what about her partners? What about H’rsh the Boog and The Wolf Woman, were they gone too, or for that matter....were they safe?