The Green Witch

Chapter Nine

     Drisco's farm was located at the end of Pennywhistle lane, a narrow track that Tala had never been down before even though she'd like to explore the countryside in her younger days. It had a proper house, two storeys tall, with lattice windows and ivy crawling up the walls. The roof was thatched, which gave Tala a moment of anxiety as she remembered how her own cottage had burned down, but most houses were thatched in these parts and house fires were rare. Rare enough that Tala's misfortune would be talked about for months to come.

     Nobody noticed that Drisco had come back with a passenger at first and the farmer was able to unhitch the horse, take him into the stable and fill a nosebag with oats that he hung around its head. Tala sensed the horse's relief at being able to rest and eat, and she also heard the whispered conversations of myriads of mice as they rustled around in the hay and the long grass outside. <Strange human,> one of them said. <Smells strange.>

     <Don't let it see you,> another mouse advised. <It might send the monster.>

     The monster would be the farm cat, Tala guessed. All farms had a cat, to catch the mice who would otherwise help themselves to a good part of the farm's crop. Tala had never liked cats. They were selfish, mercenary creatures that cared for nothing but themselves. Some people thought that cats were capable of love and affection but Tala knew better. They didn't sit on a person's lap because they liked them. They sat on their lap because they were warm and comfortable. They'd be just as happy sitting on that person's decomposing corpse. In fact, they'd probably prefer that because they could have a quick snack without having to move from the spot.

     She had to restrain herself from greeting the mice and kept silent as Drisco finished seeing to the horse and closed the stable behind him. "Can I help you carry those?" she asked as the farmer picked up the bundle of blankets from the back of the cart.

     "I'm only thirty six," the farmer said with a smile. "I'm not an invalid yet. You can get the door for me."

     Tala nodded and went ahead, the gravel path crunching under her feet. The door was already open, though, with a dumpy looking woman standing in the doorway, staring at her curiously. "Sarah, this is Tala," Drisco called from behind her. "The young lady Dougal's set his cap on."

     Sarah smiled brightly. "So you're Tala," she said, holding out her hand. "I feel I've known you all my life, so much does Douggy talk about you."

     "We've met twice," Tala replied, taking her hand. It was as rough as sandpaper. "He can't know much about me."

     "He talks to the people in town about you," the farmer's wife replied. "I doubt there's anything you've ever done that Douggy doesn't know by now."

     "That's very..." began Tala, but she couldn't think of a good word to end the sentence with.

     Drisco laughed. "Tala will be staying with us for a while, if that's okay by you," he said to Sarah. "Her house burned down and she has nowhere else to stay."

     "Oh you poor thing! Are you alright?"

     "Fine," Tala replied. "I was lucky."

     Sarah beamed with relief and delight. "Of course you can stay," she said. "We've got a spare room you can use. Dougal's out in the fields with the other two. He'll be delighted to see you."

     Tala was sure he would be. "I don't want to impose," she said, because that was what you said in situations like this.

     "Nonsense, nonsense," said Sarah, standing aside and ushering her in through the door. "We'd be glad to have you. Another pair of hands is always welcome on a farm."