Hidden Chronicles Chapter 7
The Path that Ne’er Runs Smooth or What’s Wrong with Peppermint? - Part 4
(This is the final part of this story from my 'Hidden Chronicles'. It was read at the Green Dragon Friday roleplaying event on 14th February, 2025)
“I reckon that’s the last of them,” panted Hereward Muckle as he thrust two squirming little oinkers through the doors of the pigpen and drew the bolts securely. “Did you count ‘em, Ivo?”
“That’s forty-one in there now,” Ivo replied.
“And how many were in there before, lad?” asked the farmer.
Ivo pondered a moment, as if in deep thought.
“Now let me see. Forty-two!” he cried. “That’s it, the answer’s forty-two! Oh no, there’s one missing!”
At that moment a series of cries reached their ears.
“Help! Help!”
The cries seemed to come from beyond a reed bed some way off.
“Someone’s in trouble in The Slue,” shouted Ivo in alarm and without a thought he ran at full speed towards that expanse of treacherous swamp.
“Don’t be silly, lad,” shouted Hereward, but it was too late, already Ivo was up to his ankles in the muddy sludge on the edge of the bog, trying to make out where the cries were coming from.
Peppermint had sat in the reed bed watching Ivo and her mother count the piglets back in as they were returned by various family members and villagers. Her mind was numb as it dawned on her how much trouble she had caused – she was, in truth, mortified, and wished that the earth could just swallow her up so that she wouldn’t have to face her family.
Suddenly, from behind her, she heard splashing sounds and peering out from the reeds into the swamp she saw that one of the piglets was there, floundering in the mud, some way off from the shore. The little fellow was clearly in trouble and instinctively Peppermint stepped into the marsh and made her way towards it. At first the mud came only up to her ankles, but then to her knees and waist and by the time she reached the little pig the mud was up to her chest, and she could feel the bog sucking at her hungrily. As she cried desperately for help it was all she could do to keep her head above the surface while at the same time holding on to the slippery and terrified creature.
Ivo knew how much peril the three of them were in as he breasted his way through the mud towards the struggling pair.
“Try to keep still!” he urged.
When at last he reached them and Peppermint felt a pair of strong arms take her by the waist, then even in such danger, her heart missed a beat. Ivo was a sturdy lad and he somehow managed to bring himself, Peppermint and the piglet, which she still kept a firm hold of, safely to the shore where Hereward and Ada waited anxiously. As Peppermint lay exhausted on the muddy bank, she heard Ivo say,
“You’re safe now. Let’s get you somewhere warm you poor, dear thing.”
She rose from where she lay with a smile on her face hoping for him to take her by the hand – only to see him on his way back to the pigpen, cradling the piglet in his arms.
Ada Muckle led her daughter back up the path to the farm. The girl spoke not a single word and went straight to her room. She didn’t come out for two whole days and when she did finally emerge to eat, she sat at table sullenly pecking at her food and could barely manage more than a monosyllabic grunt by way of reply if anyone spoke to her. Ivo chose not to join the family at their communal meals, as had been his custom, preferring to take his meals alone in his own cottage. It was after this state of affairs had gone on for the best part of two weeks that Ada Muckle decided she must take matters into her own hands.
Although she was always kept busy around the farm and in her kitchen, Ada had successfully raised two boys and, as any mother will tell you, there had been bumps in the road along the way, but she was now seriously concerned for Peppermint and decided that she needed some expert help. So it was that one fine morning she made her daughter put on her coat and taking a firm grip on her arm, led her across the fields to the little hut by a stand of trees which was the home of Araminta Digroot.
Araminta was the village healer. She was a skilled herbalist, adept in the preparation of potions and draughts and as such she was constantly in demand in the village. She knew treatments for all manner of cuts, bruises and broken bones, she had learned the art of midwifery from her mother and she prepared salves and lotions to ease the pain in ageing joints. But her advice was not sought for physical complaints alone, for she was generally considered to be wise in the understanding of those troubles, worries and emotional disorders which afflict all folk to a greater or lesser extent at some point in their lives.
Inside her hut, in a room full of shelves on which rested bunches of dried herbs and jars of all shapes and sizes filled with powders and potions, Araminta sat Peppermint down. After a cursory inspection to ascertain that there was nothing physically wrong with the girl, she started to ask her a series of questions about how she was feeling, what she had been doing lately, who her friends were, but Peppermint just hung her head and spoke not a word. Araminta asked her to remain where she was and took Ada into an adjoining room where they could speak privately.
Of course, Araminta already knew much of the events of two weeks earlier, and Ada was able to fill her in on what she did not know and Peppermint’s part in them.
“Hmm,” said Araminta, “there’s a puzzle here and we need to get to the bottom of it. From what ye’ve told me it’s clear that young Ivo has summat to do with this – all Peppermint’s odd doings seem to have been directed at him, and you say the lad’s been acting a bit strange himself this past year too – did anything happen back then that might have set him off?”
Ada thought for a moment.
“Well, I asked the young folk to take him down to The Badger one Friday – that lad needs to get out more and from what I heard he had a good time.”
“Ahh,” said Araminta, “y’know that might just be it.”
Because she was much in demand for so many things the healer got to see just about everyone in the village on a regular basis, and if there were stories, rumours or gossip to be had Araminta would be sure to get to hear of it. The wonderful duet between Ivo and Lorelei Goosefoot at The Singing Badger was still spoken of – so, too, were a number of rumours concerning the time they spent together in close proximity afterwards!
“There’s someone I needs to see,” said Araminta. “Someone needs to speak to young Ivo too and I know just the hobbit for the job. Meanwhile, you take the lass home and have a few words with her yourself – even if she don’t reply, she’ll listen to you!”
The two women had a further whispered conversation at the end of which Ada nodded determinedly and went to collect Peppermint.
When my own Cousin Filibert answered a knock on his door, he was surprised to see Araminta Digroot standing there – and I think he was pleased too, for he rather liked the healer, who had helped him find young Juniper Willowy and who had been helping her mum Jasmine to recover her health. He was a little less certain after they had taken tea together and she had explained what she wanted him to do.
“But I barely know the lad,” he protested.
“That don’t matter,” she replied. “You understands young folk – you’ve proved that – and he needs a man to talk to him. And you are a man, for sure,” she added with a grin, looking him up and down as she left him looking slightly uncomfortable on his doorstep.
It was dusk by the time Araminta found Lorelei Goosefoot seated on a large stone outside her croft, with Sam the sheepdog at her feet, gazing mournfully down the hillside and toying with the little set of wind pipes she held in her hand.
“Right, young lady,” said Araminta sharply, skipping any formalities, “you and me needs to talk. Inside, now!”
They talked for over an hour – unlike Peppermint, Lorelei was only too glad to share how she was feeling with the kindly healer and Araminta talked to her as the mother she never knew might have done, making her realise that love between two people needs time to grow and that you need to spend time getting to know one another. She learned too how Ivo had suffered when he received no message from her arranging to meet and she felt ashamed. She took a pen and wrote a long message to Ivo explaining that she could never leave her sheep and saying sorry for the hurt she had caused him and hoping that they might remain friends. She wept then and Araminta comforted her and promised that she would visit her again soon. On her way home she dropped the message for Ivo off at Cousin Filibert’s burrow.
The next day, filled with apprehension, Filibert made his way across the bridge and along the road to the pigpens where he found Ivo re-filling one of the troughs.
“A word, lad, if I may?” said Filibert and in response Ivo bowed politely. “I know you don’t know me very well, but some folk who care a lot about you have asked me to speak with you. Will you walk with me a while?”
Now in his letter to me old Filibert didn’t tell everything that was spoken of in that conversation as they walked together along the edge of The Slue accompanied by the buzzing of insects and the calls of wetland birds. I imagine he spoke of his own experience of growing up and falling in love – although, to be honest, I never heard of any romantic interest in his life. What I’m pretty sure of, from what he said, is that young Ivo did listen to him because their conversation reminded him of the ones he’d had with his own dad before he passed. I reckon, too, that Filibert told him some of the same things about love that Araminta told young Lorelei and maybe, too, that sometimes love can take you by surprise and you find it’s been there waiting for you right under your nose all along. As they returned to the pigpens Filibert handed Ivo the message from Lorelei and moved away as he read it. When he saw the lad fold the note and put it in his pocket, he saw that there was a tear in his eye, but as he put a comforting arm around his shoulder, he could feel some of the tension that had been there begin to ease.
At that moment, two figures approached, coming down the path. Ada Muckle was in front, and she walked straight up to Ivo, greeting him cheerily.
“Ivo,” she said, “I’ve come to tell you we’ve made a decision. You needs someone to help you out with the pigs – you spends far too much time working down here and that ain’t healthy for a young lad.”
“But who could you find?” said Ivo. “Not too many folk is that fond of pigs.”
“Well, “came a shy voice from behind Ada. “Maybe I could help?”
