Petronella & the Trogot (4 page)

“What? Are you saying that you lived in medieval times and you've come back to life?”

“That be it, lady. Hitteth the nail on the head so ye hath. My soul were disturbed. Me and my fellow-villagers were burieth in the field and would hath been happy to stayeth there for ever. But we was duggeth up and we hath cometh back. You seeth, I hath nowhere else to goeth. I belongeth here, I were here before ye or thy husband was even born.”

“You can't stay here! Not dressed like that and holding a double-headed axe. What will the neighbours say?”

“I be not budging from here. This be where I liveth,” he said.

“We'll wait and see about that when my husband gets back.”

 

 

In a street not far from Mrs Bellamy's, Molly was unpacking her wedding gifts and wondering where to put the vases their friends had given them. She had got over the shock of her ruined wedding, thinking that as long as she and Jake loved each other, they'd be OK.

She heard a strange noise at her back door which led to the garden. Maybe Jake had come back from work early. Why would he use the back door? He never did that. Or maybe she was hearing things. But as she went into the kitchen she could definitely see a shadow behind the frosted window panes. Then a fist knocked lightly on the glass... Molly opened the door a little and saw a young maiden in a bonnet holding a basket of freshly cut daffodils.

“Good day to ye, Molly. I hath bringeth ye some flowers,” the young lady said, pushing the door open with her crook and stepping into the kitchen, “if ye putteth these in one of those beautiful vases, they shall looketh so pretty.”

“Sorry, but do I know you?” Molly asked.

“I doth nat thinketh so,” answered the maiden.

“So what are you doing here?”

“I hath just picketh a few daffodils from myn garden. As I sayeth before, I be going to helpeth you arrangeth them in one of those vases...”

“YOUR garden. Sorry, but there's something very wrong here. And it's MY garden you've just picked those flowers from. Anyway, why are you dressed like that and talking in old language? Is it April fool's day, or something?”

“Dresseth like what? Talketh like what?” the maiden said. “It be ye who dresseth and talketh strange.”

“Well... you're dressed like you've just come out of some old picture-book, looking like Little Bo Beep in that bonnet.”

Marian was wearing a pale-blue bonnet and a matching long puffy dress with a little lace-edged crisp white apron over it.

“Yes, ye be nearly right. I didst keep some sheep in this garden once, but myn name be nat Little Bo Beep. It be Marian. Sorry to seeth there be no sheep and lambs grazing around the garden now. You should keepeth some sheep, ye know, they eateth the grass, keepeth it tidy. I hath madeth such pretty warm winter dresses for mynself and breeches for myn brothers out of their wool.”

“Breeches for your brothers! What are you on about? Now, if you are on your way to some fancy-dress party and popped in here to play a prank on me, you could have fooled me. But the joke's over, OK? End of. Finished. Just put the flowers down on the table. I'll see to them.”

Marian got very upset and started crying. “How could ye treateth me like that? I shall letteth you stay here with me in myn house as long as ye be nat nasty to me.”

“Look, Marian, I'm sorry if I upset you. But this is MY house. I have a big fat debt to prove it. Jake and me bought it six months before we got married. We've spent all our free time doing it up. Worked our guts out, we have.”

“I can seeth it be changed a lot since I were here last. There was some oak beams running along the ceiling. The wood used were cutteth down by myn father in the woods. We hath much mud and horse-hair lying around the house, sheep dung even. I must needs say ye doneth a splendid work in cleaneth it all. The upstairs were a thatched loft, where I used to sleepeth, but I seeth that it be all changeth, too. And we hath a cooking fire here,” she said pointing to the middle of the kitchen, “and we hath shutters on the windows...”

“Sorry, but when exactly did you live here?” Molly asked.

“From the year 834 to... I cannat remember when I stoppeth living here.”

“834!! It's 2012 now. Why that's... that's... so 6 added and 60, to make 900, and 12 years left over, then we need to add 100, then 1,000 that makes... Why that's 1,178 years ago! Are you kidding me?”

“No, honest to God, I be telling ye the truth. I knoweth I used to liveth here with myn family,” Marian said. Then she started crying. “I can telleth ye that I spendeth many a sad night sobbing in myn bedroom upstairs. Ye be lucky, Molly, ye be married and happy. I were so unlucky and unhappy.”

“Why? What happened to you?” Molly asked, “Let's have some tea and biscuits and you can tell me all about yourself.”

So Marian began her cruel story.

 

 

“It be the beginning of autumn, around harvest time. Peasants cameth in to work for Lord Fortesque from nearby villages. I used to taketh baskets of bread down to them from the castle.

“This young man nameth Barden befriendeth me. I weareth the prettiest dresses out of all the young women because I were Lady Fortesque's servant girl. I wanteth to ignore him, but this Barden becameth angry with me. I were afraid of him. I refuseth to answer when he speaketh to me. One day Barden snatcheth myn basket from me, throweth it angrily on the floor. He grabbeth me by the arm and, with a fierce look in his eyes. He telleth me that when he speaketh to me he wanteth an answer. Otherwise, he would buryeth me in the field. Then he laugheth as if he hath been joking, telleth me that I be the prettiest girl he hath ever seeneth and that he must needs talketh to me. I did nat answer but I seeth a gleaming sharp knife hangeth from his belt.

“The castle of Lord and Lady Fortesque were surrounded by a high wall and protecteth by the cruellest guards. It were almost impossible to breaketh into the castle. But the next day Barden telleth me he would goeth back with me to the castle. I must needs meeteth him outside the castle gate that evening as soon as it becameth dark. He said I hath to bringeth a spare long shawl and bonnet with me. If I didst nat doth what I be telleth, he sayeth I would be sorry I hath ever been born. He were very violent, ye see.

“That evening, he waiteth in the shadows in a small ditch near the castle. When he seeth me at the gate, he jumpeth out and grippeth myn arm cruelly. I telleth him to let me be. He sayeth he would nat doth me any harm if I calmeth mynself down and I speaketh nicely to him. I telleth him that I were working for Lady Fortesque so I could help keepeth myn family; myn father hath been badly injured by a falling tree when he were chopping timber. He asketh about myn work. Did I liketh the other servants? Then he asketh me about Lady Fortesque. I telleth him that myn mistress were a difficult woman. She shouteth at me and sometimes hitteth me hard. But Lady Fortesque handeth down her dresses to me when they hath gone out of fashion. She wanteth me to looketh nice. Then, Barden asketh if I knoweth where my mistress keepeth her jewels. Yes, I telleth him. I always helpeth her putteth them on.

“Barden smileth. Taking the shawl from myn hands, he wrappeth it around himself then rolleth his trouser legs up. Finally, he putteth the bonnet on. ‘Let us goeth to thy mistress,' Barden sayeth, ‘we shall giveth her a nice little surprise.' Seeing me arriving at the castle in the darkness, with what looketh like another woman servant, the guards openeth the gates to letteth us through. ‘Taketh me to thy mistress,' Barden ordereth me, twisting myn arm cruelly until I must needs let out a small scream. Terrified by this man walking next to me, I leadeth him up the stairs to Lady Fortesque's drawing room. When we arriveth behind the door, Barden maketh me stand in front of him and pointeth a dagger in my back. ‘Go in,' he whispereth, ‘and doth nat ye dare tryeth to stop me.' With my trembling hand, I openeth the door. My mistress were writing a letter at her desk.

“Barden hath never seeneth such a beautiful and large room. Flowers everywhere, little silver caskets, carved wooden chests, a large mahogany table and a padded gilt couch. The windows were drapeth either side in heavy gold satin. Neither could he helpeth seeth the diamond encrusted rings on her fingers and the giant emerald that dangleth from her gold necklace.

‘Marian, who on earth hath ye brought with ye,' Lady Fortesque sayeth with surprise.

‘My Lady, I...' I feeleth the tip of his dagger in myn back.

‘Ye stupid, girl, how dare ye bringeth vermin to myn house?' Lady Fortesque shouteth to me.

Barden letteth go of me and, like a bull, furiously rusheth over to Lady Fortesque.

‘Nobody calleth me vermin,' he shouteth back. She spitteth at him in the face, calleth him scum of the earth. Barden were even more angry. He standeth in front of her. And she slappeth him hard around the face. So hard it were that she felleth straight over backwards and hitteth her head on the hard marble floor. Her eyes was wide open. She muttereth some words. She were nat dead.

I panicketh and yelleth out of fright. Barden slappeth me hard. He telleth me I must needs calm down but I keepeth crying and repeating: ‘What hath ye doneth?' Barden were still staring down at Lady Fortesque. He knoweth nat what he must needs doth. Then, he hath an idea. ‘Quick, let us putteth her in that wooden chest. By the time they findeth her in there, we shall be far away.'

‘No!' I beggeth him. ‘Please, please, we must needs telleth Lord Fortesque. We must needs explaineth that it were only an accident.'

‘No! Never!' Barden shouteth. ‘Ye must needs do as ye be telleth.' With that, Barden tuggeth at Lady Fortesque's necklace until it cameth off in his hands. Then, he pulleth off her rings one by one. ‘Quick, let us escapeth out of here,' he shouteth to me. He grabbeth myn arm, pusheth me out the door and kicketh me down the staircase. He throweth the shawl over his head and wrappeth it tightly under his chin. I were too terrified to look either left or right. I simply walketh out of the gates with Barden as if I were in a trance.

Once out, Barden darteth into a fast run and were soon to be seeneth far away in the distance. I were left there on myn own, trembling. What were I to doth? I could nat goeth back to the castle. Neither could I goeth back home and upset myn ill father. No, all I could doth were to sleep under a big tree for the night. I huddleth against the tree, curleth up into a ball to protect mynself from the cold and the dark. There I stayeth until daylight breaketh. I were waketh up by Lord Fortesque's soldiers standing over me. They pulleth me up from the ground, taketh me to the castle and throweth me in a damp dark prison cell where I were to waiteth to heareth about myn fate.

“The next day I were taken to Lord Fortesque. ‘Marian,' he sayeth to me, ‘ye bringeth a stranger here yesterday with whom ye committed a most evil deed. A deed for which ye shall be severely punished. My dear and precious wife hath been attacked. She shall recover but I cannat forgiveth ye for what ye hath doneth. Ye hath bringeth destruction to ye own folk. The violence on myn wife shall be avenged and ye shall be beheadeth along with a number of folk we shall choseth by chance from Fort Willow. We must needs setteth a good example to the folk here. It shall be the last time anyone tryeth to attack myn family,' he sayeth.

“I doth nat remembereth what happeneth after that. But I must needs have died young because I cannat remember ever being twenty.”

By this time, Molly was overcome with such pity for Marian that she was crying, too.

“Don't worry, Marian. You can stay here for as long as you like. It's your house as well as mine. You can have your bedroom back.”

 

 

Petronella was quietly making herself a nice mug of cocoa before going off to bed, when she thought she saw a strange movement in the dark trees opposite. The more she looked, the more a hooded cloak seemed to take shape out of the blackness. The shape made its way towards her cottage and then walked straight through the closed window. Petronella was not quite as frightened of The Hooded Horseman now, as she had been in the past.

“Pe...tro...ne...lla,” she heard the shape say.

Looking through her kitchen window, she could just about make out his horse tied to a tree.

“I hath cometh to explaineth the note to ye. The piece of paper I gaveth ye hath the letters TCO on it. This standeth for the THE CHOSEN ONE, yes, Pe...tro...ne...lla, ye be THE CHOSEN ONE.”

“Chosen for what?
”
Petronella, asked, feeling frightened and confused.

“The Strincas civilisation liveth here in Fort Willow well over 1,000 years ago,” The Hooded Horseman began. “Legend hath it that if we becameth extinct and then in future we would be somehow borneth again, wherever myn body be taken, in that place would THE CHOSEN ONE b
e foundeth. It be my duty to goeth to THE CHOSEN ONE and telleth that person about what must needs be expected of her. That be why I gaveth ye the note. I wanteth to seeth thy
reaction. I knoweth ye be a little afraid of me but ye should nat be. I be here to asketh ye for help.

“The souls of myn folk hath been disturbed, and they be now rising up and swarmeth into the village. THE CHOSEN ONE can telleth them what they should doth. The spirits of yesteryear shall taketh the village back. Ye hath the power over them. I must needs telleth ye a little more about The Strincas first so that ye understand. The peasants was good folk. Though a little difficult to dealeth with at times, I must needs admit.”

Petronella's eyes widened. She sat still and listened.

“In my day, Fort Willow were a peaceful village at first. The Strincas civilisation were mostly farmers who worketh very hard on the land. I were a sort of leader, the wise man of the village, ye could say. Folk cameth to me for advice. Ye shall be asking yourself why I were killeth and why my body were throweth in that bog there. This be a mystery to ye now. It be a complicated story. Pe...tro...ne...lla, I shall telleth ye all, if ye hath the patience to listeneth to me.”