The Second Saga: Part Eight

It’s Slowdee and just before dawn Nick the Torchman gave Oggin’s door a good solid thump and yelled a “thank you” for the coins. Oggin sat up and made a grunting noise in reply, then tried hard to wake up as well. It took all his fading will power to swing his legs off the bed and served to remind him how hard he’d worked the day before. There then followed a period of inner argument as Oggin worked at convincing himself he really needed to get moving and that the sides of the trench really needed to be straightened, his work ethic won out in the end and he lit a lamp. Looking away from his legs, he pulled on his clothes and went in search of a mug of tea. He sat in the warm kitchen, mug cradled in hands and thought through the day ahead. The trench shouldn’t take more than an hour or so and it would only take a while to have a natter with old Bob Weaver, so all being well he should be home again by mid-day. Kajoa hadn’t specified what the “jobs” were she wanted doing but as the knick-knack shelves were still empty and the back door was sticking, he could take a reasonable guess. Kajoa had left four of her “special” oat cakes for him, so he ate the two savoury ones with his tea and decided to eat the sweet ones as he walked to Nitaa’s cottage.

When he went outside, he found the morning to be cool and fresh, with just the lightest breath of breeze, so slight it hardly moved the grass by the side of the path. Even this early in Newness Season flowers had started to peep through the ground. Snow Drops were poking their green shoots and delicate white flowers up above the last vestiges of snow lurking in the hedge rows. On the trees, Oggin could make out the tight little buds that, with increasing daylight, would be this season’s leaves, the song of birds busy searching out a mate filled the air and Oggin hoped that The Stone Woman was right, that this truly was the start of Newness Season. By the time he’d meandered and munched his way to Nitaa’s front gate the sun had climbed high enough to warm the air and he could see swirls of mist drifting along the paths and between the trees, like ghosts, slowly going home. A twittering column of grateful birds had formed behind him, clearing the oat crumbs he’d dropped as he walked.

Oggin was going to knock the door but decided he could do without the distraction that Nitaa engendered in him, he didn’t know what it was but the woman seemed to beguile him in a way that he didn’t understand, or for that matter want either. He quietly set to work, making as little noise as possible. It turned out that Oggin was about right in his estimation, the job of straightening the trench sides didn’t take long at all, using a stave and a plumb line he quickly had all four sides of the trench in alignment. The job had been made easier by the accuracy the Weaver boys had demonstrated the day before and Oggin found himself even more impressed by these two young lads. He was putting away his tools when he heard the back door of the cottage open and looked up to see Nitaa the Cutter, her hair awry and lips pale, poking her head around the door,

“Oggin....I didn’ ‘ere you come in....”

“Er...no....as it was so early I thought I’d leave you to sleep....it is Slowdee after all....”

“Thas wery kind off ya...ere...wheres day two lads....?”

“The two boys aren’t with me today....I let them have the day off...”

“Thas a pitie....I wass lookin forward ta seein them again....fine stra’wpin lads....they is...ain’t dey....”

“Er yes...I suppose so....but they are only young boys really...”

“Yeah....jus ow I likes ‘em.....Wellw I wos gonna ave a cup a tea...you won one an’all...?”

“Er....Thanks but I really don’t have the time this morning...busy, busy....”

At this, Nitta extended a bare leg out of the door and Oggin knew he was thee inches short of seeing something he really shouldn’t.

“You sure I can’t tempt you....at’all....?” she replied, with a lick of her lips and a flash of her bright blue eyes.

Oggin could feel himself blushing under his beard and was almost struck dumb.

“Er....yes....I mean...er...no...I...er...um...I’m really sorry...really sorry...but I have such a lot to do....at home and such....sorry.....”

“Me too Oggin........me too.....Wellw....you run along home den...Oh...an give me luv ta Cow’joa...won’t ya...Tat ta....”

With that, she disappeared back inside and Oggin had to use a great deal of self control not to bolt like a rabbit out of the garden and back to the path. Once through the gate, he stopped to draw breath and considered he’d had a quite lucky escape.

Oggin thrust his hands in his pockets and ambled off toward Bob Weavers house, the morning sun filtered through the trees and spread dappled patches of light on the ground, the air was now definitely warm and after a few yards Oggin reached up and unbuttoned the sleeves of his diggen shirt and put them in the back pocket. With now bare arms he strolled on his way, enjoying the feeling of fresh air and sunshine. The path back to The Village was mostly straight and in the distance Oggin could make out two figures coming toward him. As they got closer he recognised Tookie the Boog and beside her, H’rsh the Boog. The two women were in deep conversation and hadn’t noticed Oggin, not that H’rsh could see him anyway and he briefly toyed with the idea of hiding till they went by and save the time it would take to talk to them. This was childish, so good sense and politeness prevailed and as the pair got closer he hailed them with a bright “Good Morning”. They both jumped like scared cats and then Tookie stood with her hand on her ample bosom as if catching her breath, while H’rsh peered in all directions trying to see who spoke. Oggin stopped to regard this miss matched pair, Tookie as usual was dressed to kill, or at least stun, with most of her anatomy outside her clothes as normal. H’rsh was her slightly drab self, except of course for her hair, which was as multi-coloured and wild as ever. Oggin was strangely pleased to see the two had come through the Cold Season in good health, even if common sense had passed them by again.

“Why Oggin da Ogg...is dat ya’self” said Tookie, “Whit yer big strong arms and dem loooong legs an’all....”

H’rsh was still squinting about, trying to see, so Tookie grabbed her shoulder and pointed her in the right direction.

“It is indeed Tookie, good morning to you again and to you too H’rsh....what might you two ladies be doing out, on this fine Newness morning....?”

“We is goin’ ta see da new woman in H’rsh’s ole cottage, so we are....it’s been claimed dat she is a dab hand whit da herbs an such...so we’s goin’ te see if’in she can help us whit da H’rsh’s hair...at all....”

“An i was wantin’ a look at me ole garden...” chimed in H’rsh, “te see wat she doin’ whit it...”

“Ah....I see...well H’rsh...I fear you may not approve of the changes that she has made but I wish you both luck....”

“An where might you have been from den Oggin...?” asked Tookie

“Well as it happens....I have just come from the very same place....a new midden has been asked for and me and the Weaver boys are charged with the digging...”

“An’ hav’ ya been in da house yet den....?”

“No Tookie....I have not....nor would I wish to.....Now...I’ll bid you good ladies good-bye as I have business with Bob Weaver to complete....stay well ladies.....stay well...”

“And yerself Oggin....and yerself....stay well now....”

As Oggin continued his journey he reflected that pointed questions deserved pointed replies.