Chapter Eight – Morwen

They approached the farmhouse along the lane, but when they got close a dog started barking. The house was set back from the road behind a high walled courtyard, a wagon door in a stone arch opened onto the lane. The lower storey of the building was stone built, the upper was half timbered and rendered, and it had a thatched roof. There was a timber barn to one side and an animal and cart shed to the other, the whole complex forming three sides of a rectangle fronted by the enclosure wall along the lane. Pazu pushed one of the wagon doors and stuck his head round. The barking became louder and more urgent.

"Hello doggie, good doggie."

The barking became even more frenzied, more hostile. A pair of large grey wolfhounds were just behind the gate, Pazu didn't want to risk going in.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

Sheeta stuck her head around the door.

"Oh, hounds. Let me."

She pushed the door wider, gave Pazu her crutch and sank down onto her knees.

"Sheeta!"

She ignored him and he feared the dogs would attack, but they both came forward inquisitively, sniffing. A couple more barks, less sure now and they fell silent, sniffing Sheeta's face.

"Be careful," Pazu warned. He could bind sprained ankles but he didn't want to extend his surgical skills to facial stitches just yet.
"Don't worry," she replied, "come here. Oh, aren't you adorable! What are your names then, hm?"
"They don't have names. Them's working dogs and they don't like being petted neither."

Pazu looked up. A large woman stood across the yard in the house doorway. She was middle aged, big and red faced with a mop of flaming yellow hair held back in a band. Her hands were on her hips and in one of them she held what looked like a meat cleaver. Sheeta simply ignored the woman and continued to talk to the dogs making coo-ing sounds. She put her hand out palm upwards.

"And don't do that neither, he'll have yer hand off!"

Sheeta held her hand out, low. The big shaggy dog approached and sniffed it, then it gave her hand a lick. Fish broth juice was on the menu today. The huge dog licked again and kept licking until he could no longer taste fish. The woman seemed unimpressed.

"Well if he takes yer hand off don't say I didn't warn yer. Anyway, whaddyer want?"
"Have you any work I can do please? We're travelling and need some money," Pazu asked.
"Travellers, eh? Been a lot of travellers recently. More than I'd like to see. Fed up with the lot of you I am, tramping through the crops, breaking down the walls, two of your kind last week killed a sheep."

The woman glared at the boy's bare feet and the girls bandaged ankle, her crutch. The crutch looked brand new, these kids had clearly just made it, she doubted the girl was hurt. And no doubt the boy had taken his boots off and left them nearby. Such tricks didn't fool her, she was fed up with beggars.

"There's no work here, and no money neither in case you were thinking of comin' back tonight."
"I'm very good. I can work all kinds of machinery, pick crops, paint and mend. And Sheeta here can cook and sew and, well, she's good with animals. apparently. We only need a little work and then we'll be off to town, we don't want to cause trouble."
"I can do all the cooking and sewing that's needed round here, and we ain't got no machinery, so clear off, blasted beggars!"
"We're not beggars," Sheeta spoke, "We're just travelling through, we lost lots of our possessions in an accident and just need to buy more. Please."
"Dogs! Here!"

The two wolfhounds immediately left Sheeta and trotted over to the doorway.

"Sit!"

They did so, one to either side of the woman. There were a few minutes silence. The big woman regarded them suspiciously.

"Going to town you say?"
"Yes."
"Not away?"
"Uh, no."
"All the travellers what come through here are going away, over the hills. Inland."
"Why?"
"The situation of course, things is getting worse. It'll come to fighting soon."
"Well we want to go away too as soon as we can," Sheeta offered, "we're going north, to Gondoa,"

Pazu kicked her good foot gently. In a pretence of helping her up, he leaned close and offered her the crutch.

"Don't tell her too much, I don't trust her," he whispered.
"And I don't trust you two, neither. And my hearing's very good," the woman sneered.
"I'm sorry," Pazu offered, "but we don't know this area and, well, you seem to have had problems with other travellers recently so I thought…"
"What? That I'd gossip and tell people two strangers going to Gondoa were here?"
"Something like that, yes."
"Don't worry, we keep ourselves to ourselves in times like these, don't go wagging our tongues to nobody, 'specially them watchmen and soldiers."

The boy and girl exchanged a glance, she frowned a question with her eyes and he responded with a look of don't know.

"You. Girl. Walk forward, come 'ere."

Again Sheeta queried to Pazu with her eyes, but he motioned her to go. Sheeta took a few paces across the cobbled courtyard, struggling with the crutch and keeping her sprained ankle off the ground. She gritted her teeth against the pain. As she got close to the woman the two wolfhounds began to wag their tails and wiggle on their haunches, tongues lolling.

"Stay," the woman warned them, "Stop there. Now, you boy. Come over."

Pazu walked to beside Sheeta a few feet from the doorway.

"Alright, I don't think you is beggars or lyin' to me. But you is no way getting' to Gondoa."
"Why?"
"Borders is all closed is why. On account of the situation."

Pazu was burning to ask what the situation was but thought it prudent to keep his ignorance concealed.

"Please, at the moment all we want to do is get to the town to buy things. Camping things."
"You's already damn well campin' Do you think'm some stupid country wench? You's up there on the sheepfold las' night, we saw yer."
"Yes. Sorry. We had an accident and lost most of our possessions."

Pazu really didn't want to go down this line of conversation, he didn't want to mention Laputa and the Goliath and Muska and all the rest of it.

"You kids is not makin' sense, you know that don't yer? You's out campin', yet you say you's got no campin' gear. You camps up on the ridge in plain sight, and yer lights a great big fire las' night so's the whole world can see yer. Why yer don't camp down in a holler near the road and keep yerselves to yerselves I don't know. Do yer want people to find yer and come askin' questions?"
"We had no choice," said Sheeta, sounding upset.
"Whaddyer mean yer had no choice? Road not good enough for yer? Did you fall from the sky or something?"
"Yes."
"Oh, right, so now yer from the sky too. I've had some kids tell me some tall tales in me time but you two talk the biggest load of pig manure I think I've ever heard. If it weren't for the way yer talks and yer politeness and what have yer, and that you's really got an injured ankle, and you, boy's used to walkin' without boots, I'd get the dogs to run you out of my yard in a flash."
"Oh, yes, so here you are, I daresay."

The two teenagers turned at the sound of the voice behind them, the two dogs raced past them and ran to the gate. A man stood there, he was tall and heavyset and wore grimy working clothes with a flat cap tilted back on his head. Over his shoulder was slung a shot gun, the breech cracked open. The dogs bounded up to him enthusiastically, barking and playing at his heels.

"D'ya know what, goodwife Morwen, that ain't no tent up there, it's a flying machine, looks crashed to me. And here, well, well, well, here it looks like we got us two pilots an' all."

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4 – 5 March 2007

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