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.