3^rd Saga

Part Three

Oggin sat in confined discomfort as the world fell out of his bottom. A voice reached his burning ears.

“Oggin hen…is tha’ yer’sel….yeh shitebag….”

Oggin could only manage a low grunt in reply.

“See yous is reekin so ye’are…ya ken ah can smell ye fae in here…”

Oggin tried to grunt again…but could only raise a squeak. Kajoa the Tosk, for it was she, stomped outside, to berate the unfortunate Oggin further, as was her fashion.

“Is youse deid in therr…it shurly reeks like it right enough…”

“No my tiny Toskland flower…I just wish I was….” replied Oggin, in a whisper.

“Ah willnae mak scran afor ye in tha’ case...ye wullnae wan it wi’a whitey on ye…”

“No my Tulip…” whimpered Oggin, as Kajoa returned to the kitchen.

In a while, Oggin felt that the, ‘problem’, had subsided enough for him to attempt to stand and on very wobbly legs, he made his way indoors.

“Dain’t pad aboot in here ye….fetch yer’sel te yur bied...rite noo…an’ if ye are gonna boak…dee it on’a cat…”

With one hand clutched to his mid-section and the other groping for support, Oggin shuffled his way to his room and lay curled in a foetal ball, waiting for the death he fervently hoped was coming.

Now dear reader, perhaps a word or two on the subject of The Tosks; The origin of the Tosk race is largely unknown, in fact, as they came from beyond the High Mountains, most Ogglanders have never met with them. The Romans tried on several occasions to invade Toskland but they only ever succeeded in getting a sound thrashing, so gave it up as a lost cause.

With so little contact, a number of myths have grown up around the Tosks. Their “carefulness” with coin is well known as is their “crafty” nature but it’s their apparent aggression that marks them out in the eyes of outsiders. While it is true they do speak in an aggressive manner, it’s by no means a trait of real aggression, just simply their way. It should also be mentioned that in Tosk, men and women are treated as equals in society and in all matters of work, hence Kajoa’s former trade as a Hog Wrangler and Ferret Skinner.

 And so it was that Kajoa saw her chance to get Oggin to ‘see’ her point of view. She set about the task with guile, cunning and a few entreating words, also knowing he was in no fit state to argue his case. Not that she even, for a moment, considered he had one anyway. In due time the still ‘afflicted’ Oggin found himself agreeing to an extension of the cottage, to better house the growing collection of Knick-Knacks, which, he knew, threatened to take over the whole building. Feeling her work done, Kajoa went off the tell The Mammie of her victory and boast just a little too.

The night passed and Oggin awoke to find he was, in fact, still alive. The dull ache in his lower gut served to remind him of the day before but he decided to think of it instead as ‘hunger’ and rose to find some food. The sounds from the kitchen, together with the smell of sausages frying bode well but the soft, out of tune, lilt of Kajoa singing did not and he remembered his rash promise of an extension.

“Iss tha you big man…” said Kajoa over her shoulder, her hands a blur of skillet, smoke and flashes of flames.

“Iss ya bahookie bet’er an’ tha’ the day Hen…Ya lookit fair awfy las’ night so ya deed…”

“I’m feeling much better thank you my flower…just hungry…I think…I hope”

“Wiel…you sit yer’sel doon…the scran is awe but done the noo…”

Oggin eased himself very gently onto the bench behind the wooden table. A knife and fork were already waiting there and a mug of steaming tea stood to one side as well. With almost a flourish Kajoa placed a large tin plate before him and stood back with a smile.

“You get yur wallies around tha’ Hen…while iss hoat…” and then added, with a wink, “Tha’ll put wood in yer walopper so it will…”

Oggin looked down at his plate, greybread, fried golden brown, two kinds of sausage, spotty beans in sauce, toadies and a pile of fried buttermash with an egg on top. As he tucked into this feast it struck him that it was actually a collection of all his favourites, on the one big plate. It was then that he voice of Kajoa crept into his ears.

“So Oggin…darlin’…will ya be seein’ yon Shed Master th’day…byraway….?”

Oggin pretended nonchalance and slowly finished his mouthful before speaking.

“I shall contact Giles the Shed Master first thing my turtle dove but remember he is from Westex…and it may be a few days till he gets here…”

“Aye ah ken tha’ Oggin…but mind ya get aboot it ya bawbag ye…”

“I shall my love…as soon as I finish this wonderful...no…superb meal…”

Oggin looked up and smiled on of his best charming smiles and was rewarded by the narrowed eyes of Kajoa as she snorted and then stomped out of the kitchen in a very marked manner.

Oggin returned to his meal but knew he would have to make good on his promise and contact the Shed Master, something he was not looking forward to.

3^rd Saga

Part Two

Oggin and Bob arrived at Bob’s gate and shook hands.

“I’da wish ee luck Oggin boy, Tha’ Boog is a bit tricky minded, I reckons….”

“True Bob…but I think even she will see the sense of the arrangement…well, I hope so anyways…”

With a final wave, Oggin set off for the short walk to the cottage of Tookie the Boog. He knew from past experience that Tookie could be a bit of a handful, in fact she seemed to prefer it that way. As he approached he let out an almost audible sigh, he saw the shapely and swaying rear of Tookie, sashaying off toward the village. With luck, he thought, that would only leave H’rsh to deal with. So not quite as bad, after all.

He advanced toward the front door and reached up to knock. It was then he noticed the knocker had been replaced by a large, polished brass model of a “gentleman’s parts”. He recollected having seen it before, on the now ‘missing’ front door of Greedle the Bronze. So Tookie had ignored his advice and must have risked going back, to scavenge what she could. Ignoring the knocker, he rapped on the door and waited. A thin weedy voice came from inside.

“Who iss dat….make yer’sel known…afore I puts da dog on yous…”

This was followed by a very poor imitation of a dog barking.

“H’rsh the Boog…it’s me, Oggin the Ogg….I have come to speak to you…”

The door opened a few inches and the myopic H’rsh peeped out, eyes narrowed behind her thick lenses.

“Iss dat yer’sel Oggin….?

“It is H’rsh…really…look…”

He leaned in toward the little face and smiled. The smile was immediately returned as the little Boog recognised him, flung open the door and rushed forward to hug the stuffing out of him!

A muffled voice came from somewhere around his belly.

“Oggin….Oggin…tis that glad I am te see yers…tis seasons since I seed ya last so it is….”

Oggin gently pushed H’rsh away and held her at arm’s length by the shoulders. He could see tears in her eyes and a twinge of sadness bit into his heart.

“Would you have some tea brewing…I’m fair parched you know…”

“I do...so I have…would you loike a mug…tis fresh made so it is…”

“That would be very nice…very nice indeed…shall I go round to the back garden…seein’ as it’s so nice...we could have our tea and a bit of a chat…”

“Indeed an’ dat sounds jus grand te me…youse go on round…der’s a bench fer sittin’ on an’ all…I’ll be just a minute, so I will…”

With a smile, a wink and a sideways nod, Oggin left the Boog to close the door and made his way to the back garden. At once he could see the little woman had been working her magic once again. Almost the whole garden was a riot of colour and scent. Butterflies and Bees flitted and buzzed their way from bloom to bloom in a ceaseless, workaholic display of eagerness. Even the small and tidy vegetable patch was inter sown with tiny blue flowers to mark out the rows. He could now see why the midden had not needed his attentions for a very long time. A small wooden bench lay to one side and at once Oggin recognised Bob Weaver’s handiwork. He sat and wondered at the life the little Boog must be leading, busy by all means but was she still as happy as she used to be. His musings were interrupted by H’rsh as she appeared from the back door. On a tray, were two mugs of steaming tea and a small plate of biscuits. Oggin suddenly remembered the oat cakes, still in his shirt pocket but was a polite man, so kept quiet.

“Dare ye are Oggin…tis Dandelion an’ Camomile…an’ dem’s is Buttercup softies…”

Oggin took a mug and a biscuit, he sniffed the ‘tea’ and as it smelt fine he took a sip, it was unusual but still very palatable. The biscuits had tiny yellow flecks, which Oggin guessed, wrongly, were the Buttercups H’rsh had mentioned. A nibble proved to be a riot of taste. Sweet, sour and another flavour which he couldn’t place, very nice and he guessed they would be moreish too. This time he was right. H’rsh took a seat beside him and beamed a huge smile his way.

“Oggin…tis that pleased I am ta see youse…so I am…”  

“It’s nice to see you too H’rsh….but tell me, you seem a little down in the dumps….is there anything wrong…?”

“Tis this place Oggin….between da little folk an’ dat Tookie…well tis not as fair as it was…to be sure….don take me wrong loike…I feeds an’ I works well enough loike….but I has no time to ma’ sell…de ye see whit I’m sayin’….”

“I think so H’rsh…I think so…you miss your old life…don’t you…”

“Aye…I does an’ all…t’was fine at first loike…bit of a adventure loike…but I sore misses havin’ me own place roite enough so I does….”

“Well in that case, I may have some news to lift your sprits a bit…”

Oggin slowly explained about the death of Janice the Farmer, the Testament and the meeting he had had with Nina, The Wolf Woman and Bob Weaver. How they had decided that she, H’rsh the Boog was the best person to look after the cottage and the orchard on behalf of Nina. As he spoke, he watched as the Boog’s eyes widened and then start to fill with tears, which trickled down her sun browned little face. At length, he paused and asked.

“Well…H’rsh the Boog…will you take the offer….?”

H’rsh blinked behind her thick glasses and swallowed hard before croaking a reply.

“Oh my goodness…I….I don’t know what to say te ya…I…I…Yes Oggin…Yes, yes, yes….please….yes please…oh my goodness…”

Oggin put out his hand and gently held one of hers, she was trembling. He looked in her eyes, smiled at her and said.

“I’m so happy for you….and really glad to know you’ll be doing what you do best…tending to the growing life of Ogg….Now, you’ve to move as soon as you can. The orchard is in real need of your tender care, if the Papples are to be ready for the brew in good time. Just you let Bob Weaver and his boys know when you’re ready to move and he’ll see that you get some help…”

“Oh Oggin…how will I ever thank you fer dis…tis won’erful so it is…”

“Just do what you do Little H’rsh…grow and tend the land…make us proud of you….Now I’d best be going…Thanks for the tea and biscuits…you go and start packing…Another chapter in your life will start soon enough…”

Oggin stood and H’rsh once again gave him one of her ‘bone crushing’ hugs before he set off home. He crossed the green and caught sight of Tookie the Boog, laden with shopping, on her way home too. He still had a slight lump in the throat at H’rsh’s reaction to his news but he knew Tookie would not be as pleased. He was about two thirds of the way when the Dandelion tea ‘kicked in’ and he had a sudden and very desperate need to pass water. He quickened his step but that produced a whole new sensation in his lower stomach. The Buttercup Biscuits were now working….Fast!

So buttocks clenched and eyes wide, with very small steps he hurried as best he could, straight to his midden box….only just in time too.

3^rd Saga

Part One: The Meeting

The news of the death of Janice the Farmer came as a shock to Nina, The Wolf Woman, the revelation of the Testament and its contents, if anything, more so. The scars of the acrimonious split between the two women had never left Nina, despite the passing years. They had not spoken for four years and in that time the reasons for the split had become lost and forgotten, as is often the way of these things, only the memory of the harsh words, spoken in anger, remained. Nina now felt torn, she had worked very hard to make a life for herself and loved her little cottage but she couldn’t just ignore the Testament, she needed advice. Nina knew there would be no shortage of ‘advice’ in The Village, everyone would have something to say. She needed ‘wise council’, from someone she could trust.

So that is why Oggin the Ogg and Bob Weaver found themselves walking together in the morning sunshine, heading out of The Village toward the former home of Janice the Farmer. The two friends walked in silence, each with his own thoughts. Oggin understood that whatever was decided today would have a long term effect on not just the parties involved but the whole village. He had dressed in his best ‘meeting trousers’ and his second best sheepskin shirt, with the fleece side inside. This did tend to tickle a bit but he thought it appropriate. His beard was combed, his feet polished and he had two oat cakes, just in case. Bob ambled beside him, also deep in thought. He and Rob, his wife, had talked this summons over at length, Bob valued his wife’s common sense and her knowledge of village life.

Nina had arrived at the cottage early. This was the first time she had been here for a long time and it seemed to have changed very little. The term ‘cottage’ was a bit of a misnomer, in fact it was really a large wooden hut with a slate roof. The boarded sides were still green, if a tad faded in places and the roof had moss in abundance. She pushed the gate open and it let out a squeak of protest and almost without thinking, Nina dropped the end of Be-Be’s chain over the post just inside the gate. She looked down and a cold wave went up her back as she noticed it was still worn at the bottom, from almost constant use.

“You’m stay there girliy…” she told the Wolf, which lay down, head on its front paws.

Nina walked slowly toward the front door, fishing for the key in her trouser pocket. Suddenly, she stopped. She couldn’t go any further. Her mind raced and was filled with images of what, seemed like, someone else’s life. Voices flooded her thoughts and she started to tremble a little, a tear welled up and fell down her weather worn face and with a sharp intake of breath she turned and walked stiffly around the side of the cottage to the back garden. Nothing had changed here either, a rustic wooden table, flanked by two benches stood strangely forlorn on a group of flag-stones. She was just about to turn and run away from the pain in her chest when she heard the voice of Oggin, calling from the track outside.

“Nina…er…Nina….Are you there…?”

She hurried back to the front of the cottage, rubbing her eyes with the heel of one hand. Outside the gate, a long way outside the gate, stood Oggin and Bob. Both the men were occupied trying to melt into the hedge opposite the gate and staring at Be-Be, the she Wolf. In turn, Be-Be was standing, staring at them and letting out a low but very audible growl.

“Now, now girl, tis only Oggin the Ogg and Mister Bob….you’m lay down an’ leave ‘em be…”

The Wolf took a couple of paces back, turned to look at her mistress before laying down but kept watching the two men with cold eyes.

“Mornin’ Oggin…Mornin’ Bob….you’ms a’ll be safe now…come on in…”

Nina turned and made her way to the back garden again. The two men followed, almost tripping on each other’s feet, both keeping a very close eye on the Wolf and in turn it kept an even closer eye on them. They sat around the table, Nina on one side, Oggin and Bob on the other. Oggin noted the redness of Nina’s eyes but kept silent. She spoke first.

“I’da loike t’a say thanks to the both of youse fer comin’ an’ helpin’ me with this testament stuff an’ all. I don’t want t’a give up my place, I put too much hard work in’ta it and I’m wery ‘appy there, on me own. Havin’ said that, I feels it’d be a shame to let this place go to a stranger what’d not look a’fer it loike…”

The two men listened in silence, nodding as she slowly spoke. When she had finished, Oggin put both hands on the table, palms down and took a deep breath before speaking.

“Well now Nina, first off, we both feel honoured that you asked us….Now, what you’re saying is, you’d like a tenant to take over this place for you…but someone local…?”

“Yes Oggin but I’m not fussy ‘bout rent an’ such…tis the care of the place that is more important…to me anyways…”

The two men glanced at each other again and Bob Weaver spoke.
“Well’um…as I sees it…there’d a’be own’y wun person yere abouts as ‘ould suit fer tha’ koind’a thing…H’rsh the Boog…”

“I agree” said Oggin, “she is a little…well… strange but she has a heart like a horse and would take care of the place and the orchard too….”

“Aye” agreed Bob “an’ me an me boys would ‘elp ‘er out loike…if’n she needs it…”

Nina listened and paused before speaking.

“I thought she were tucked up wiv that other Boog wench…Tookie, is it…?”

“She is Nina” answered Oggin, “for now at any rate but the coin she got for her old cottage is running out….and well….to be honest, I don’t know how much longer she can support the pair of them...seeing as Tookie the Boog isn’t…well….”earning” so to speak….”

“I see….I thinks as this’n place would make a livin’ for ‘er…what with the orchard an’ such” said Nina, ”Do youse think as she’da go for it…?”

Bob rubbed his chin and spoke, “I caan’t see why not. From wot I ‘ears she’d a be a hard workin’ sort a body….loike Oggin says, she’da be a bit strange loike but tha’s not ‘ardly standout in these parts affer’all…”

Nina nodded and with the briefest of pauses, stood and offered her hand to the two men.

“Thas a deal then…H’rsh the Boog it is….who’s gonna tell ‘er…?”

Oggin stood and took her hand in both of his, he spoke.

“I will do that Nina…when do you want her to move in here…?”

“Just’a soon as she can Oggin…the orchard needs a goin’ over afore pickin’ season…”

“Right you are Nina…I’ll drop in and see her on my way home…”

Bob now also stood and shook Nina’s hand and nodded. The three then made their way back to the front gate, Oggin and Bob slid, with care, past Be-Be and went to the far side of the track.

“Soon as I get an answer I’ll send word to you Nina…” said Oggin

“Aye, I’ll get one of me boys to see ya…” chimed in Bob.

With that, the men went off on their way, back to the village. Oggin turned briefly to wave back to Nina but she was standing with her face buried in her hands, her shoulders slumped. Oggin realised that all this business had hit her hard and resolved to help in any way he could.

“Oggin, boy…um think we done the roite thing by yon woman…?”

“I think so Bob…I think so…but time’ll tell I reckon…”

That same friendly silence fell on the two friends as they walked back to the village, each consumed by his own thoughts.