a mule, the keeper of the mine and my home host

As Jan suggested, it must have been written in invisible ink the first time round. Here it is again:

Towards midday I started to feel hungry and thirsty. I spotted a small stream and made my way through the rushes and yellow water thistles to the water’s edge, where I drank gratefully. I sat down on a large sun-warmed rock and took out the food my host, of the previous night, had prepared for me. I was just about to bite into a large juicy apple when a loud braying voice suddenly said “hey, could I have that apple, PLEASE?” I looked up in surprise to see a large mule with very long ears almost standing on top of me. Where had he sprung from I wondered. “oh, well, yes, I suppose so. Are you very hungry?”  “Too damn right” he replied somewhat belligerently. “In fact, I’m positively starving. You just can’t get any decent food around here. You’ll find that out soon enough for yourself.”

 

Having lived in Le Enchanteur’s world for a while now I suppose I should be used to talking animals but it still surprised me and I realised I was still wearing the spectacles. “You can take those off now, you won’t need them with me around” commanded the mule who went on to introduce himself as Thomas Aequinus. I handed him the apple, carefully avoiding his big yellowed teeth. He scrunched it up quickly,”phew, that’s much better”. “I’m sorry. I only had the one” for I could see him glancing longingly at my bag as if to conjure up a second one. I ate my piece of cheese, conscious of his big brown eyes on me. He was a very big mule and seemed to tower over me. He nodded his head in the direction of a baggage pack I hadn’t noticed. “That’s for you. From le Enchanteur You will need that when you get to the mine. I am here to help carry your equipment and to take you to meet the keeper of the mine. Come on, we ought to be making a move”. He was also a very bossy mule. I stood up, brushed away the crumbs and we set off. Over the course of the next couple of hours Thomas took it upon himself to give me plenty of advice as well as offering lots of encouraging words and practical support.

 

The track led downhill and it was getting warmer. I suddenly realised all the snow had gone. Butterflies danced in the sunlight and bees buzzed in the heather, not the fat yellow and brown bumble bees I was used to, but huge black things with iridescent blue wings. I had only ever seen this type of bee once before, in the lavender fields of
Provence. I wanted to get a closer look at them but every time I tried to get really close to them they buzzed away.

 

Thomas chattered on, asking me the occasional question, but he was now more interested in telling me about some of the people I was going to meet - the keeper of the mine  and Allegra Goldrush who, apparently, was to be my home host, the Rathbone couple (pronounced Ratbone) who kept a fur farm for trading with the trappers who came to Leaning Birches, Madame Vernis de Gloire who ran a false nail parlour. Oh yes, you guessed it, you’ll need a manicure after slaving away in the mine for a while. Slaving away in the mine? I thought we were supposed to be mining for nuggets.

 

Then there was Allegra Goldrush’s boyfriend, Miles Togo. Such a sad story about the passing of Mr Goldrush …. Miles Togo was to be our guide in the mines. I hoped his name didn’t mean that we would have to go for miles underground ….

 

After a couple of hours, by which time my head was spinning, we arrived at the town of Leaning Birches, according to the sign nailed crookedly to the trunk of a silver birch tree which leaned dangerously over the road, just at the right height for an unwary traveller to bump his/her head on.

 

Leaning Birches was a dusty, rickety old town that had obviously seen better days. Windows were boarded up, the saloon sign dangled from one chain instead of hanging proudly from two. We walked up the steps of a building whose sign announced “Keeper of the mine”. “Go on in, she’s waiting for you”. I went nervously through the door and found myself in the presence of a huge woman. Why was everything around me so big, I wondered.  She towered above me, hands on hips.

“Well, you certainly took your time getting here”.

“I’m sorry, but I was delayed by a meeting with Athene”.

“Oh, don’t talk rubbish, woman. We all know she doesn’t exist”.

I decided not to argue this. She didn’t seem to be the sort of person to argue with.

“You’ll be in the mine tomorrow so you’d better make haste to go and make yourself known to Allegra Goldrush”.

This keeper of the mine was beginning to sound an awful lot like Baba Yaga with every passing minute.

“Come on” said Thomas, who had come in behind me. “I’ll take you to meet her now”.

 

I followed him back down the steps and we headed towards the edge of the village. The last house was apparently Allegra’s. It stood out from its neighbours because it had a white picket fence on three sides of a small, well tended and well stocked garden. The house, which was small but seemed to be equally well cared for, nestled right up against the rock face of the cliffs behind it. Its owner must have heard our voices for she came out to greet us.

“Be welcome, Troubadour. I am Allegra Goldrush but most people call me Goldie”. I thanked her and she led me into her house. She was wearing a brown homespun dress, her skin was darkened from working out of doors and she had long brown hair. At first glance she appeared to look very non-descript until a mote of sunlight suddenly lit up her hair and I could see that it shone with strands of copper and gold like the veins of ore in a mine. She had really beautiful hair and her eyes had flecks of gold in them. I could only imagine what sparks would fly from them if she flew into a rage.

 

Inside, her house was cool and dry. It was divided into two, so that the rooms at the rear of the house had rock as their back walls. Ferns grew in crevices and, where the rock formed natural shelves, she had used these to display a number of clay pots and sculptures. In reply to my admiring and enquiring glance she said - yes, she had made them herself.

 

As it was getting late, she showed me into another rock-walled room and explained that this would be mine for the duration of my stay. She left me to get cleaned up after the journey and later I joined her for an evening meal of a delicious vegetable stew, made with vegetables from her own garden. This was followed by a huge bowl of wild berries she had gathered in the nearby woods.

 

To be continued….