“I’m glad I can help, Sadie.” Tanyth was surprised to discover that she meant it. “And thank you for the bread and cheese. That was very thoughtful of you.”
Sadie gave a little half curtsy, half bow. “It’s the least we can do for you, mum.” She glanced around the still almost empty hut. “I’ll just leave you to your thinkin’ now, mum. I need to get back to my own work.” She scurried out the door and gave a little wave before closing it behind her, rattling it once to make sure it was firmly latched.
Tanyth stood there and shook her head in wonderment. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the reverence they seemed to hold her in. On the other hand, she had to admit it wasn’t much different from the feelings she had about all the women she’d studied with over the years. She was on her way to see the one above all, the one that all the others mentioned in reverential whispers. Just at the moment, she felt a bit like an impostor on the wrong side of reverence.
The smell of the fresh bread drew her to the table where she discovered a loaf of yeast bread and a small round of soft cheese in a damp cloth. Her mouth was instantly awash and she used her belt knife to slice off two fat slabs of bread, added a bit of the cheese and then toasted them over the coals using a stalk of dried rosemary from the cast-off pile until the cheese began to melt into the bread. She almost burned her mouth on it, but it tasted divine.
With her belly full and the chamomile working its soothing magic on her jangled nerves, she felt a bit less antisocial than she had before lunch. For the first time since arriving, she felt no urgent need to do something, other than clean the cheese from her belt knife and re-wrap the food. She left it on the table and contemplated refilling her tea cup, but decided that one more cup of chamomile would put her to sleep. Instead she found her snares and put her earlier plan into motion. Clapping her hat on her head and taking up her staff, she slipped out the back door of the hut and crossed the weedy open area to the woods beyond.
It felt good to be back in the forest. She noted several useful plants along the way including a drift of chamomile flowers that would more than replenish her meager stock and at least two different mints. She slipped into the forest, passing from the open clearing through the verge of understory and into the open forest beyond. Her practiced eye picked out a few likely stands of trees including several witch hazels and some chestnuts and walnuts. She gathered a pocket full of chestnuts to roast later and made mental notes about what she’d need for gathering. She pushed further into the forest and found several stands of blackberry and raspberry. In one spot a large trees had toppled, smashing an opening in the canopy in its fall and clearing the way for several wild rugosas. They appeared to be mature plants, at least several winters old, and were loaded with the fruiting hips that would be invaluable as winter wound into spring. She’d have to bring Riley out to help gather them up before the birds and animals got them. It would be a few more days, perhaps after the first frost of the season, before they’d be ready to harvest.
She wandered in a broad arc that took her back to the clay quarry road. One of the first skills Agnes Dogwood had taught her was how to keep track of where she was in the forest, and she had honed that skill for twenty years with each new teacher adding layers of nuance and knowledge to her memory. Even with the quick survey, she knew she could find the individual plants and trees that she’d mentally marked on her partial circuit of the hamlet. If the rest of the forest were as rich as the small slice she’d covered in her short tramp, there was no need to worry about food for the coming winter. Tanyth was relatively sure that she could feed at least half the village on what she’d be able to glean from the All-Mother’s bounty around them.
Remembering the prayer of the morning and the unexpected response she planted her staff in the moist forest floor and whispered a quiet prayer of thanks to the All-Mother out of heartfelt gratitude for the gifts she’d found. She stood there in the peaceful afterglow, listening to the wind sighing through the branches and smelling the rich, loamy soil where her staff had dug into it. A waft of pine came down slope on the breeze and somewhere back in the forest a squirrel chittered. She took one last deep breath and let it out slowly before starting the short walk down the track to the village. As she stepped out into the open again, she remembered the rabbit snares in her pocket, but decided against placing them after all.
With a spring in her step, she continued on through the village to her hut. As she approached she met Thomas coming up the road from the direction of the Pike. He smiled shyly on seeing her and bobbed his head in a kind of self conscious bow. “Good afternoon, mum.”
“Hello, Thomas. Lovely day isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, mum. Quite. Be fall for sure soon enough but right nice now.”
“How’s the hunting here?”
“Very good, mum. Lots of small game and several herds of deer that roam the hillsides on either side of the Pike, mum.” He seemed almost embarrassed to be discussing hunting with her.
“I saw rabbit sign in the woods right here this afternoon.” She pointed to the woods behind her hut in an attempt to draw the taciturn man out a bit on the subject of local game.
He nodded. “Oh, there’s hare a plenty all over these hills, and the odd wild cat and coyote to keep them from takin’ over, too. Do you fancy a bit of rabbit, mum?”
“I was going to set a snare or two this afternoon, but got distracted by the plant life.”
“The woods around haven’t been picked over here yet. Only Mother Alderton gathered much and even that was naught but what she used for her liniments, salves, and teas.” As he spoke he rummaged around in the game bag over his shoulder and pulled out a field dressed hare. He held it out to her. “If’n you were gonna snare one, then you probably know what to do with that, mum. It’s yours if you want it.”
Tanyth was reticent about taking the food out of others’ mouths but he pressed it on her.
“Please, mum. I’ve another pair for the family and some more fat grouse for the general larder. It’s my pleasure.”
She accepted the rabbit with a nod of thanks. “I’m much obliged, Thomas. Thank you.”
He beamed and knuckled his brow. “My job, mum. It’s why I’m here. I can bring you anythin’ the woods will provide. You just let me know what and when you want it.”
The hare was heavy in her hands and she nodded her thanks once more. “A fat rabbit like this once a week would be quite adequate to my needs, Thomas. Thank you.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “You don’t know where I can find some oats for oatmeal do you?”
He grinned. “There’s grains up at the barn, mum. Draw what you need. There’s usually plenty there. Oats, flour, millet, rice, dried beans.” He smiled encouragingly. “You’re one of us now, I figure. You help yourself to anything you find there, mum, and if you can’t find somethin’ you let me know.”
His simple words warmed her in ways she hadn’t anticipated and the gift of the hare was unexpected. He knuckled his brow once more and nodded his farewell before continuing up into the village, leaving her standing there in the glow of the late afternoon sun.
8
Realities and Realizations
Tanyth was no stranger to rabbit anatomy and soon had the carcass skinned and jointed. She offered a prayer to the All-Mother in thanks for the meat and fur, then tossed the meat into her cooking pot, added water and some salt, and hung it on the pot hook over the fire to stew. With winter coming, the skin already showed the color change with flecks of white winter fur among the mottled brown. She rolled it for later curing and set it aside.
The day was drawing to a close before she heard the solid wheels of the ox cart crunching along the track outside. The sounds of the village were already becoming familiar to her and she began to feel more at home, more centered. She looked around the hut and tried to think clearly about what she’d need for the winter.
For twenty years, she’d lived in somebody else’s home, or out of her backpack. She acquired
and disposed of seasonal clothing as she went, trading heavy for light and light for heavy as she needed it. Small clothes and some bits and pieces stayed with her over the years. Other than clothes, her teapot, a single cook pot—now filled almost to the top with stewing rabbit—and her plate and cup, her pack contained only the herbs and seeds that constituted a stock in trade, a stash of tea and oatmeal, and little else. Everything in her life traveled on her back and that life was not geared for setting up housekeeping.
She started making a list in her head for things she’d need to get through the winter. A larger cooking pot was first on her list. The small one was all she had and as long as it was filled with rabbit, she’d be unable to cook her breakfast of oatmeal. A frying pan, something she had little use for on the road because of the weight and the nature of her diet, would become almost invaluable in preparing meals on the hearth. Her mouth fairly watered at the thought of baking some beans, an activity that would require another article of specialized equipment.
As she sat there, the spinning in her mind slowed. What she absolutely needed, she carried on her back. All her thoughts of pots and pans, of foods and storage—all those were extraneous to what she needed. They might be convenient, of course, and even welcome additions to her life, but not anything that she needed. Her panicky response startled her as it passed and she realized what had happened. She closed her eyes and took deep, slow breaths to steady herself further. When she opened her eyes and saw the basket of bread and cheese on the table, she remembered that while the village was isolated—barely developed as a place at all—she was not alone. The people who lived in the huts around her had wintered here four times already and were cheerfully heading into a fifth. Her moment of doubt and fear subsided and the rabbit boiled over a bit, forcing her to focus on the here and now to adjust the pot hanger. She wanted the rabbit to simmer, not boil and that homely task centered her more.
“Foolishness, old woman.” She berated herself for succumbing to self-doubt and anxiety even as she recognized the mood swing as a normal part of her life. She sighed aloud and set about getting her supplies in order to deal with it. “And you thought this was going to end sometime soon?” She chuckled to herself and shook her head.
Still, she thought another cooking pot would be nice.
With things arranged for her monthly reminder of mortality from the All-Mother, she found herself once more at loose ends and looking about her for something to do. She’d not had to deal with idleness in over twenty years. There was always something to do, something to learn, something to find or prepare or mend. She realized that part of her restiveness was the result of needing something to keep her hands busy. She would need a gathering basket for foraging in the woods, and wondered where to get the materials to make one.
Thinking of the forest also reminded her that she had a pocketful of chestnuts. She dug them out and lined them up near the fire to roast, stabbing each one with the tip of her belt knife before putting it on the hearth. They’d make a nice accompaniment to the stewed rabbit. With her immediate needs addressed, she slipped out of the cottage and headed for the hut that Thomas and Sadie shared. She could tramp about in the woods herself until she found what she needed, but Thomas already knew the lay of the land.
She knocked on the door and heard Sadie call “Come in!”
She swung the door open and peered inside. Sadie was putting the final touches on dinner and Thomas was oiling his boots while the kids played a noisy game consisting largely of rolling around on the floor and crawling under the table and back out again. All activity ceased as she stuck her head through the low door.
“Mum!?” Sadie seemed flustered that Tanyth should be knocking on her door. “Is something the matter?”
Tanyth smiled and shook her head. “Not at all! I just wanted to ask your husband some questions about the area.”
“Me, mum?” It was Thomas’s turn to look startled.
She turned her smile on him. “Yes, you, Thomas. I’m looking for a stand of cattail, not too far away. Do you know of such a place? Someplace handy you can direct me to?”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully before replying. “Probably the nearest is up toward the quarry. About a half mile in, there’s a bit of corduroy roadin’ through a damp swale.”
Tanyth nodded. “Yes, we were there earlier today.”
Sadie added a quiet confirmation.
“Follow the swale north, up-hill about two hundred yards. There’s a smallish pond there with a nice stand of cattails, mum.” He hesitated. “Can I ask what you want them for?”
“Baskets. I need to make some baskets for gathering.”
“There’s enough there for that, mum. But there are plenty of baskets in the barn, if you need some.” He started to rise. “I can fetch a couple for you if you like, mum.”
“No, Thomas, but thank you. I just needed to know where to get them.” She smiled and gave a little wave before closing the door again. She looked up at the sky and decided she didn’t really want to be wandering the woods at dusk. The sun wasn’t quite below the treetops but it would be in a matter of minutes. She could hear the men returning from the quarry already and filed the information away. The barn was nearby and Tanyth turned her steps in that direction. She really wanted to see what kind of stockpiles were there and it appeared to be the center of the hamlet’s effort, judging from the number of people who’d directed her there in the last couple of days.
The big doors hung on heavy iron hinges and stood wide as she approached. The building wasn’t tall but it was much larger than she’d thought, its bulk masked by the huts and trees. The oxcart and lorry wagon stood tucked under a shed roof to one side and inside she could see box stalls with horses peeking out. She stepped into the open door and smelled the musky aromas of animal dung and sweet hay, along with an underlying tang of harness oil. The horses whickered softly and she could make out the pale shape of the ox in the stall closest to the door. She heard voices coming from inside and followed them back between the stalls to the far end of the barn. William and the older man she’d seen driving the lorry wagon were standing in a large store room at the back. There were barrels and baskets, tools, and piles of cloth. Cupboards with latched doors hung on the walls. The two men turned at the sound of her footsteps and William smiled.
“Good evening, mum.”
“Hello, William.” She smiled back and nodded to the new face. “I take it you’re Frank?”
He nodded with a shy smile of his own. “Yes’m. Frank Crane. I saw you earlier by Mother Alderton’s hut, didn’t I, mum?”
“You did.” Tanyth inclined her head in acknowledgment.
William spoke up. “Tanyth Fairport, this here is the man we were so concerned about. Seems the wagon gave him some trouble. Frank? Tanyth here will be wintering over with us in Mother Alderton’s hut. She’s the one that helped Sadie over the flux.”
Frank nodded and smiled more warmly. “Welcome to the village, mum.”
“Thank you.”
“Is there something we can help you with, mum?” William waved a hand. “I think there’s about anything you might need in here.”
She turned to scan all the things and her eyes kept skittering over shapes in the dim light without actually snagging on them. “So I see. I just came to see what was here, but now that I’m here, I do have need of a second cooking pot and maybe an extra plate.” She looked around at the wealth of goods stashed in the barn. “You’ve enough to open a small store in here!”
William beamed with pride. “Perhaps not a store just yet, but we have most things folks need and extras of stuff that wears out.”
A thought struck her. “When I first arrived the other day, Amber said that you weave the grass mats and make extras to sell in town?”
He nodded. “We do.”
“Well, I need to make some baskets for gathering nuts and such. Is there a workroom here somewhere?”
Frank chuckled a bit and William beamed more broad
ly. “This way, mum.” He led the way through a side door and out to a fairly large workshop tucked up under another shed roof on the backside of the barn. It was a relatively spacious room, with shutters—closed against the elements at the moment—and workbenches arrayed along the inner wall. A large hearth took up one end of the room while a wide door hung on the far end. Tools hung from pegs on the wall, and racks of raw materials sat wherever there was room. The place looked big enough for several people to work without crowding.
“This must be cozy in winter.” Tanyth looked around admiringly.
Frank nodded. “We get a lot done here.”
William pointed out a bin tucked under the work bench. “There’s grasses and reeds under here, mum, if you’re thinking of weaving a basket.” He pointed to a stack of empty wooden tubs beside the door. “There’s some retting vats. Just get a bucket or two of water from the pump when you’re ready.” He looked around. “Is there a particular kind of basket you need for collecting?”
She shook her head. “Not really. Just something light enough to carry and bigger than my pockets for bringing things back.”
He looked surprised. “How much are you talking about, mum?”
She gave a kind of shrug. “Well, I can only lug one full basket at a time, but something like a gleaner’s bag would be best for collecting and then some baskets for storage.” She looked between the two men. “You know what that is?”
“A gleaner’s bag, mum?” William shrugged. “Of course. We have those already.” He led her back to the storage room and pulled a sack from one of the shelves. He held it up for her. “Like this?” It was made of heavy canvas duck and had a broad strap attached across the mouth.
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