The Third Saga

Part Five

As Oggin drew a bit closer to the little group he could make out the individual members of the assembly more clearly. Ted The Postman was still bent forward, postman’s hat in hand, bowing toward the Shed Master in a faintly silly way. The Shed Master himself cut a very imposing figure, he was at least seven feet tall with long, shoulder length white hair and a white beard. His red robe, pinched in at the waist by a white tasselled rope, was heavily embroidered with strange symbols and Oggin noticed he had a gold cap sitting on the back of his head. In his left hand he held his Staff of Office, a six foot polished wooden pole, marked off in thumb widths and topped with gold square. As far as Oggin could make out, the Shed Master was silent and wasn’t even looking at poor Ted, he seemed to be disinterestedly gazing into the distance, at nothing at all.

To the Shed Master’s left was a diminutive little man. He looked to be quite old and was dressed in all brown, grubby, woollen clothes. He stood with bent knees and a pronounced stoop and his dirty grey hair was long and very greasy looking. In fact, Oggin thought, he looked altogether ‘greasy’ and unctuous. He was constantly rubbing his hands together, as if he was washing them, in a very obsequious, slimy manner. Oggin decided to take an instant dislike to him, as he thought it would save time later.

Some fifteen or so feet behind this trio was a small girl. She was dressed in dark green tights and tunic and a shock of jet black hair framed her smiling, cherubic face. On her left shoulder was perched a small Owl, which, for all the world, seemed to be whispering in her ear. Oggin recognised it as an Athene Owl, a very rare bird in Oggland. To the Girl’s right, a small brown Fawn rested its head against her waist as she slowly stroked its head. Oggin guessed this was Taly, Nitta the Cutter’s new apprentice, although what she had to do with this ‘merry band’ he couldn’t fathom.

As Oggin reached the post pole, Ted caught sight of him and suddenly stood up, pointed to Oggin and announced,

“This, your masterness…this is Oggin the Ogg…the man who you have come to see your worshipness…he is here…now…”

The Shed Master slowly turned his head toward Oggin and inclined it, in the merest gentle nod of acknowledgement. Immediately, the small man scurried past Ted the Postman, almost knocking him over and stopped in front of Oggin. Now furiously rubbing his hands, he spoke with a Walland ‘sing song’ accent.

“Mister Oggin…I y’am Titus Morley of Walland…’umble apprentice to Giles Belann of Westex…The Shed Masster Gener’al…”

Oggin’s dislike of the man grew a little greater.

“I yam requir’ed to remine’ yew that the Shed Masster Gener’al iss ure to oo’versee the e’rec’shun off a build’n on you’are behaff…an’ as such you’are requir’ed to uner’take cert’ann responsa’billitys…..These are has foll’ows…”

At this point, The Shed Master lifted his ornate Staff of Office and poked Titus Morley very firmly in the rump and finally spoke.

“Titus boy…will you’n ever shut yer cakey yap fur a min’it an’ let I’da speak….”

Oggin at once recognised the soft Westex drawl and a smile played across his face. Titus Morley stooped even lower and put one hand over his mouth like a scolded child. Oggin wasn’t sure if this was a demonstration of obligation or to stifle a cry of pain. Either way, his smile broadened at the sight.

“So…you’m be Oggin of Ogg…I has bin told much of ee…me ’ansum…you’m got some fitty frien’s in them knockers an’ pisky’s…ain’t ya…loike yon maid…”

He inclined his head in the direction of Taly, who had moved closer to the trio. The Fawn had moved behind her, just peeping around her legs and the Owl was watching intently, with wide unblinking eyes. She spoke.

“I’s glad ta see ee Masster Belann…an’ I bids ee welcome fer sure…was yer travels proper loike…?”

“Indeed they was young’un…indeed they was…This weren’t zacktly where I was a’spectin to be today…but t’is roite a’nuff fer I…”

Oggin noted that Tally also spoke with the soft Westex drawl and seemed to treat The Shed Master almost as an equal, a fact that was giving Titus Morley almost silent apoplexy.

“Well I’s guessin’ you’m be a bit addled a’fer the journey…so if’n you’m follows me I’ll tak’ ee to yer lodgin’s at Bob Weaver’s ‘ouse…”

“Lead on young’un…Titus…git yer ‘and off yer fizzogg an’ look sharp or I’ll swap ‘ee fer a dinky…see if I don’t…”

Oggin watched as the odd trio set off for Bob Weaver’s cottage, Taly and The Shed Master walked side by side and seemed in deep conversation and the stooped figure of Titus Morley scurried along behind. Oggin noticed that the little man seemed incapable of walking in a straight line and zig-zagged to and fro behind them. Walking at twice the speed and covering twice the distance in the process.

It struck Oggin that no plans had been made as far as the actual building of his extension was concerned but he knew that if the Stone Woman was behind all this it was much safer to just let things happen. Anything else would be a waste of time and effort. He turned to find Ted the Postman still standing, cap in hand, watching open mouthed, as the others wandered off across the green.

“Close your mouth Ted…unless you’re catching flies…”

Ted turned to Oggin and put his cap on his head, trying to regain some composure.

“They is a weird bunch Oggin….that Titus bloke was a right bloody ball ache…you’d think he was running the bloody village to listen to him…and that bloody Shed Master fella…he was too high and mighty to speak a bloody word!”

Oggin nodded his tacit agreement but kept his council, not wishing to give Ted further encouragement.

“Well Ted, I’m going to toddle off home for a brew…I’ll leave you to your work…You never know, there might be a message for The Mammie eh...?”

With a wink and a cheesy grin at the now blushing Postman, Oggin set off home to see what the Stone Woman and her friends had delivered and where the hell they’d left it.

3^rd Saga

Part Four

May I begin with a few words about the Shed. Many of you will, I have no doubt, be familiar with the common or garden shed, some of you may even own one, or perhaps, even two. Your shed or lean-to will be mostly used to hoard odd garden stuff, old bikes, paint and even an eccentric husband. Most will be self-built and viewed as an outdoor storage-cum-hiding space. This however is not the case in Oggland, not at all.

Here the common shed has been somewhat elevated, to the status of small cottage or a dwelling place. Sheds of any description cannot simply be built or dismantled on a whim. Each village or hamlet has a group responsible for oversight of a shed and this “Nanning Assembly” calls most of the shots. This brings us to The Shed Master, he has the job of designing the size and shape of any shed or ‘shed like’ structure and overseeing its safe and compliant building. Once, many years ago, many Shed Masters wandered the country plying their trade and sheds, extensions and lean-to’s sprung up hither and yon. But after the Romans departed, in a huff, most of the Shed Masters left with them, for better paid jobs. So now, only one Shed Master remains, Giles Belann of Westex, The Shed Master General.

A Shed Master always travels with a companion or “Apprentice”, this apprentice is taken on to help out and most of them take over when the Shed Master gives up work or, as happened many times in the past, mysteriously dies suddenly. Titus Morley of Walland is Apprentice to Master Giles and has been since his boyhood, some sixty five years. This has left him a stunted and bitter little man, impatiently waiting for his Master to die and often, openly wishing him so.

Oggin sat and slowly finished his food, his mind, as always, was working over the day to come. By his reckoning it would take three or four days for The Shed Master to get to The Village. This should give him plenty of time to draw up plans for an extension and contact the members of the Nanning Assembly for approval, so no need to rush, he hated to rush. He picked up the last piece of greybread, popped it into his mouth and pushed his plate away with a flourish, leaned back and slapped his stomach with a sigh. After placing his plate in the sink he padded back to his room to change for the day ahead.

He emerged twenty minutes later wearing his third best work trousers, his second favourite wool shirt and a handkerchief wrapped around one hand. He was cursing under his breath and muttering foul threats to an un-named cat. Apparently, as he’d reached under the bed one of the creatures had lashed out from the darkness and left Oggin with a ‘calling card’ of deep bleeding scratches. He crossed to the sink and ran cold water on the cuts to clean them and then reapplied the kerchief, promising bloody retribution at a later date. Going outside the back door he found the sun indicated it was around mid-morning and the early mist had mostly burnt off, leaving the promise of a fine day to come. Birds twittered and squabbled in the trees and the ever busy Bees buzzed their way from flower to flower, in organized and frenzied anxiety. Oggin decided to walk the long way around to the Green and ambled off toward his back gate. From inside the shed at the rear of the garden he could hear Cyril, The Sleeping Man, moving around. He called out a greeting.

“Morning Cyril…”

“Fuck off Oggin….I is asleep you bastard…!” came the standard reply.

Oggin smiled to himself, any day was improved by a word or two from Cyril, as he was always in a worse mood than you.

Going through the back gate, Oggin started down the narrow hedged in path toward the village green. He stopped at the rear of The Mammie’s garden and peeped around the hedge, The Mammie was hanging out yet more washing and was surrounded by several slightly grubby children. Some of them pulled at her skirt, some played hide and seek around her legs and one was sitting eating some dirt. The Mammie seem oblivious to the noise and continued to peg out the clean clothes, including, Oggin noticed, a pair of men’s underpants. As The Mammie was unmarried, Oggin guessed the rumours about Ted, The Postman, must have some truth but dismissed it from his mind. After all, both were single, so it was nobody’s business but theirs, not that that would prevent the local women from idle gossip and passing comment. Oggin pressed on, the moss under his feet was soft and still cool and in a few minutes he reached the far end of the green. On the right he could make out Evan Evans, the Shepard, leaning on his crook, stroking a sheep’s head and talking to it. Over the far side Oggin could see Ted the Postman, sitting at the base of his post, apparently eating something from a paper bag. Evan suddenly noticed Oggin and abruptly stopped talking to the sheep and shooed it away in an embarrassed manner. He waved a greeting to Oggin, who waved back and spoke.

“Good morning Evan…nice day for it…”

“Mornin’ Oggin boyo…tis indeed…”

Oggin ambled on and had gone about half way when he was brought up short by a sudden puff of smoke, right in front of him, his heart sank, his shoulders dropped as he waited for the inevitable appearance of The Stone Woman.

Sure enough, the smoke cleared to reveal the tatty presence of Gladys, The Stone Woman. Her hair was dishevelled as usual and her wand drooped where it had been repaired yet again.

“Good Morrow Oggin of Oggland…I bring you a gift…a Boone…a reward…an offering…a little pressie…But first, I shall council thee with some wise and sound advice…”

Oggin steeled himself, this was the part he hated most.

“Oggin of the Ogg…I caution thee…Never play leap frog with real Frogs…for they are slimy and much given to cheating….”

As she spoke, she tried to wave her wand but only succeeded in making it bend even more till Oggin thought it was in danger, not for the first time, of breaking completely. As she appeared to have finished her ‘advice’ giving, Oggin spoke.

“Good Morning Gladys…it’s really nice to see you again…tell me, what is this “gift” you have for me today…?”

“Pardon…?”

“The Gift Gladys…you said you have a gift for me…?”

“A gift…? Oh yes…the gift…yes…”

She reached down the top of her dress and produced a folded piece of paper and with a flourish, handed it to Oggin.

“I give you, Oggin of the Ogg…Plans…on paper…drawn and measured and drawn…With lines and such. For verily, as a reward for your goodness and to speed its construction, I, that is to say, We, have brought you, Oggin of the Ogg, these plans…as you see…”

Oggin unfolded the paper and indeed, there was a plan drawn on it, a plan of an extension, an extension of his cottage. It was very finely drawn, almost beautiful in fact and at the bottom were the marks of the Nanning Assembly and strangely, the stamp of the Shed Master General as well. As Oggin took in the detail he forced his now open mouth to shut and swallowed hard, Gladys spoke again.

“The Shed Master General has been summoned and he and his apprentice will arrive shortly…so you may start construction this very day…worry not Oggin of the Ogg…all has been seen to…materials are already waiting for you in your cottage garden…Bob Weaver will assist you and provide lodging for the Shed Master while he is here. Bob and the two Bobs the elder will provide labour as well…all this has been done…”

“Right…” stammered Oggin, “all done…already…”

“Indeed Oggin of Ogg...it has already been done…already…We have combined our forces to ensure you may bring happiness to your Tosk woman….and as thanks for the help you have given us in seasons passed….Go now Oggin…meet the Shed Master as he arrives at the village post….”

As Oggin opened his mouth to speak another puff of smoke marked the departure of The Stone Woman and he found himself alone once more. A glance at Evan Evans and his sheep showed Oggin that as always, he was the only living soul to have even seen the fairy or her pyrotechnic display. In fact, only the piece of paper in his hands seemed to mark the events of the past few minutes.

Oggin glanced up to see a collection of figures had now gathered at the village post. Ted the postman was on his feet and seemed to be bowing to a very tall person in a red cloak, a smaller man stooped nearby, rubbing his hands and a little way off, a young girl stood watching, at her side a fawn and on her shoulder what looked like an Owl.

Oggin sighed one of his ‘post Gladys’ sighs and figured that as the fairy was involved things could only get more weird as the day went on, so with a slow shake of his head, he started toward the group.