The Forgotten Memory --part 3

The next morning at breakfast Fern seemed a little unsure of herself.

“Is something troubling you Fern?” Mistress Chervil spooned a large helping of oatmeal onto Fern's plate.

Fern stirred the oats for a moment and then set down her spoon. “I should not be here any more.”

Mistress Chervil and I both starred at her.

“I mean, you have both been more than kind to me but now I am well and I do not want to cause you any more trouble.”

“You are no trouble.” we both answered.

“But I am. You have to buy food for me, Valerian, you have to share your room, and I am still wearing one of your dresses.”

“You may not leave. Valerian and I both enjoy you. If you truly feel badly about staying here, you may help more with chores. Besides that, where would you go?”

Fern sighed. “I was afraid you would say that. But I would find a way to support myself. Maybe I could become a servant in one of the big cities.”

“No, I agree with Mistress.” I chimed in. “You're not going anywhere.”

“I thank you.” Fern put a spoonful of porridge in her mouth.

Fern--the only one of my character drawings I actually liked!

Fern did start helping with the chores more. She would do everything Mistress Chervil or I allowed and somethings we didn't allow. One of her favorite tasks was herb collecting. She loved gathering the green foliage, or digging for roots.

One day a rare thing happened, Fern was late for lunch.

“I sent her to gather lovage, near the pond about an hour ago.” Mistress Chervil paced the room. “I know she loves that pond so maybe she just got distracted. Will you go check on her?”

I grabbed my straw hat and danced out the door. It was a sunny day, the type I could eat for dinner and I wouldn't blame Fern if she did forget about the time.

When I neared the pond I slowed down and approached on tiptoe, curious to see what my friend was up to. Hearing a little splash my heart lept into my chest. What if she had fallen in the pond and drowned?

Then I saw her bending over the smooth surface and singing quietly to herself.

They jump, they dive,

They swim in three's or five.

Who knows where they come from,

I surely wish I did.

Blue and green,

Yet truly, really, grey.

Will you come,

in,

Come playing in the bay?

It was not a tune I had ever heard before.

I told Mistress Chervil about it that afternoon as we walked to town, leaving Fern at home resting.

She looked at me quizzically for a moment. “That, my dear, is a marine song. I heard it once when I traveled to Crenate City. It is about a big fish they call a dolphin.”

“What is a marine song?” I shifted the basket full of herbs for trading from my left arm to my right.

“It means it has to do with the ocean.”

Something in my mind clicked. “So she's from somewhere near the ocean! That's why she looks so different. And her eyes, I always thought they looked like puddles of sea water!”

“Maybe.” my mistress conceded. “But the ocean people are a long ways off. Don't forget your geography Val. They are on one side of Eindelliar and we are on the other, butted against the Uncharted Lands. Over four hundred miles.”

Despite her voiced misgivings something in her tone made me think that thought had previously crossed her mind.

Suddenly I stopped and grabbed Mistress Chervil's arm. “It also means she remembers something from her past does it not?”

“Something.” Mistress Chervil agreed.

So the months slipped by and Spring bloomed into Summer. Fern and I walked barefoot together and dangled our feet in the pond to cool off. I never told her I had over heard the song, somehow it felt like invading her privacy.

I will never forget the day they came. Two men, in full armor and draped in blue rode into Darag Village. They stopped at the tavern where they happened to come across Elder Maple on her current pet subject: Fern.

“A girl with piercing blue eyes?” they asked.

“Yes!” agreed another villager who had seen Fern many times. “Like yours, only much deeper and darker.”

“You say she lives with the healer? Mayhap we should go visit this mind reader.”

I heard them riding towards us from a mile away. Who couldn't with all the jangling?

“Mistress!” I called. “Two soldiers in blue. They have light hair.” Then as an after thought, “Like Fern's.”

Mistress Chervil came and peered over my shoulder.

“Ho there! We hear you have a mind reader!” The taller one called at they came trotting up the hill.

“No.” my mistress's eyebrows lowered. “We do not.”

“That is what they said down at the pub.” The man waved his arm back towards the Darag.

“We have a girl here yes. But she cannot read her own mind much less anyone else's.”

That was not strictly true, Fern did seem to be a little less confused these days. Mistress and I however, both knew why she was saying that. Someone had obviously wanted Fern dead. Someone who was probably a countryman of Fern's like these two were. If these men were in anyway connected with her and had evil intentions perhaps, if they thought she was out of her mind they would decide she was not a threat and leave her alone.

“Can not read her own mind?” the second man asked with a slight lilt in his speech.

“That is right.”they were at the bottom of our porch steps now and dismounting. “She cannot remember anything.”

“Even things we told her yesterday.” I added.

Their eyes flickered to me.

“Well, then I guess it was a dry run mate.” the man with a lilt began remounting. “Say,” he stopped suddenly, “They said she had blue eyes. Does she also have light hair? Maybe she is a country woman!”

The taller man grinned. “Yeah! Does she look like us? Mayhap we know her! Would not that be nice out here in this wilderness to see one of our own.”

Mistress Chervil stiffened next to me. I felt her hand slip into mine for half a moment but that was all I needed. She was my mistress, and I was her apprentice, we understood each other.

I stepped back inside and went into my bedroom where I had last Fern.

Fern was not there.

The men stormed the house regardless of Mistress Chervil's attacks. The valiant woman even grabbed a knife and received a twisted wrist for her efforts. Caught off guard we were totally at a loss how to defend ourselves.

Then my wrist was grabbed from behind and my whole right arm twisted behind my back. It hurt.

“I can break bones.” The man with the lilt offered me. “Where is she?”

“I do not know.”

He twisted harder and I grunted.

“Where darling. Just tell us and all this pain can go away.”

“I do not know.”

I screamed as I felt my thumb crack.

“Stop that!” a deep but feminine voice filled the room commanding obedience.

We all turned toward the sound.

Fern stood in the doorway, the tall slender figure backed by the setting sun. Her hair seemed to be glowing and her blue eyes looked cold and deadly.

“Fern.” Mistress Chervil moaned.

The man let go of me and starred in surprise.

“Someday when right has been wronged, I will have your heads for this.” her voice was ringing with authority. “You may think I will not remember your faces men, but I will. Ask your master, he will tell you that I forget nothing. Ever.”

“Just wait until Lord Ray gets his hands on you Cet--” the taller man began but in a blink she was gone.

I heard her fleeing down the porch steps and tried to stop the men but they were after her like hounds after a fox.

A fox is a fitting picture of Fern. She took their horses. Jumped on one and grabbed the reigns of the other. There was no question she was a master horse rider and the thought slipped through my mind that maybe she could read as well.

Master Conifer later filled me in on what followed. Fern rode their horses into town, briefly told of what had happened at the house and then, when Darag Village was on her side she waited.

The men came puffing up the street but never made it past the pub. The twang of two longbow strings was heard and both men fell, arrows through their bodies.

Mistress Chervil and I arrived just as they were carting the bodies away.

“I am going now.” Fern strode toward us.

“Where?” I asked, cradling my still unbandaged thumb.

She smiled, a little bitterly I thought. “Anywhere I have not already been.”

“Mistress Chervil,”she embraced my mistress, “I thank you for your care.”

Then she turned to me. “Valerian, I am afraid I will have to borrow your dress a little bit long but I return the nightgown. And by the by, you are a wonderful teacher.”

“But you already know how to read do you not?”

“English, Latin, Greek, and French. But you would do a good job teaching someone who did not know.” Then she embraced me too and I felt tears running down my face.

Turning quickly away she mounted the stronger of the two horses, my short dress hiking up past her knees. “I leave you this other fine horse, Mistress Chervil.” She nodded, turned and cantered out of town.

“Fern!” I called and ran after her.

The Land of Eindelliar. I spent several days last week learning calligraphy in order to draw this.

She pulled the horse up.

“You said you remember everything do you not?” I panted, coming even with her.

A look of intense pain slithered across her face. “Everything.”

“What is your name?”

She looked toward the sun, giving it's last gasp of light. “What you do not know, can not hurt you.”

Then she turned her horse and galloped away into the fast falling twilight.

The End

So, what do you think? Is my writing boring? Are my drawings hideous? If you say "yes" I'll agree with you. :)

Happy Birthday Grace! I hope you enjoyed the story! 

The Forgotten Memory--part 2

After being on her feet for about a quarter of an hour Fern grew tired.

“Will you set me down?” her voice was even softer than usual with exhaustion. “But please, in a chair. I want to stay out of that bed for as long as possible.”

We placed her in the high backed chair at the desk and went about preparing the evening meal.

Mistress Chervil...who ended up looking considerably

 

 

 

younger than I had intended.

“Now that you're up, Val will have to lend you one of her dresses as well as the nightgown of hers you are already wearing.” Mistress Chervil chatted to her.

“I am wearing your night gown?” Her brow puckered. “Forgive me. I did not know.”

“Oh, that is alright!” I was chopping up some potatoes for soup. “I have another one. But I am afraid none of my dresses will fit you very well. You are rather taller than I.”

“I hate to wear your clothes Valerian. I mean,” she bit her lip and looked at the floor. “no offense. I just do not like having to borrow things you might need.”

“No worries.” I dumped the diced tubers into the kettle over the hearth. “I have three.”

“Thank you.” she turned quietly away and rested her arms on the top of the desk.

After Fern had been up for several days, Mistress Chervil suggested moving her into my bedroom so that the patient bed, which resided in the common room, would once again be available in case of emergency.

“I will have Master Conifer fashion you a bed.” my mistress offered.

“I thank you. I am sorry to cost you. Perhaps I can help with some of Valerian's responsibilities in exchange?”

“Nonsense.” Mistress Chervil chided. “You are not strong enough yet. Besides that a bed will cost me nothing. Conifer owes me for birthing his wife a month ago.”

Besides being the Darag Village carpenter Master Conifer was also the town gossip. Less than an hour after the last nail had been pounded into Fern's bed and Master Conifer had left a visitor came puffing up the hill.

Elder Maple, a white haired lady who was grandmother to half of the village tapped on the door frame. “I heard the girl was up and came to pay my respects.” she nodded to Mistress Chervil.

Fern was still in my room, admiring her bed and thus out of hearing.

“Is it true?” Elder Maple sidled close to Mistress Chervil and lowered her voice. “She can't remember a thing?”

“It is true I am afraid.” my mistress nodded.

“And that she is pale? And blue eyed?” Elder Maple glanced pensively towards my bedroom door.

“Yes.”

“So strange. She is not from here!” Elder Maple pursed her lips.

“Fern, there is someone here who would like to meet you.” I could tell by Mistress Chervil's face that she did not like the direction the conversation was going.

I heard a few slow steps before Fern appeared in the door. She was wearing a faded blue dress of mine, that swished startlingly high up her calf. Her long hair hung loosely down her back or flooded over her shoulders and her eyes, always a watery blue, seemed even more unearthly today.

“Ma'm.” Fern rested a hand against the wall and made a small curtsy.

Elder Maple looked her up and down fully three times before speaking. “I am pleased to see you are healing well.”

“Yes, I thank you.” her quiet voice was even quieter in the presence of a stranger.

Elder Maple looked Fern hard in the face but I noticed our she avoided her eyes. “Well, I think that I had best go now. Good day to you ladies.” And with a small bow she strode out the door.

Mistress Chervil returned from a bargaining trip in Darag the next day with her brows down low. I knew from experience that she was mad.

“Elder Maple told had the whole place, including the three other Elders, convinced that she is strange.” she told me as we unpacked her basket in the store room.

We had turned down Fern's offer of help so she had gone to sit on the porch. There was no fear of her overhearing.

“Strange?” I wrapped a fresh chunk of cheese in a cloth and laid it on the appropriate shelf.

“Not bad per say, but something to be watched. Elder Maple said that she was so white and tall she can not be a normal person.”

“I noticed she did not seem to be able to look Fern in the eyes.” I carefully placed a newly sharpened knife on the cutting block.

Mistress Chervil nodded. “That is the worst part. She has reported that her eyes were so clear and blue that she must see things differently than we do. Elder Maple has implied that she might even be able to see thoughts.”

I snorted. As a young girl I had been taught to respect the Elders but honestly, I did not believe anyone except God could read minds.

“Plain ridiculous!” my mistress plunked down the last bundle and hung up her village basket.

There was something unusual about Fern, I had to admit that, but she could not read thoughts. I tromped out of the store room and through the common room then out the front door.

Fern was seated on the bottom step of the porch stairs running her left fingers through the dust.

“Do you want to do a lesson?” I called down to her.

She flinched as if I had slapped her and in a blink her foot had scuffed up the dust.

“I am sorry, did I startle you?”

She stood up, brushing her dress. “Yes, a little. And thank you, I would enjoy a lesson.”

She managed to read several small words that afternoon. I smiled, delighted to see how my pupil was finally coming along.

“Fern.” I opened the desk drawer and removed a sheet of paper. Placing it on the desk I dipped a handy quill in the ink and held it out to her. “It is time you learned to write.”

She hesitated a moment and then took the pen. “How?”

“Sit and I'll guide your hand.”

She sat and I wrapped my hand around hers. Together we wrote the letters F-E-R-N. She smiled and looked up at me.

“That says Fern doesn't it?”

I nodded and smiled back.

“Mistress Chervil!” a man's voice squeaked through the air. “Mistress Chervil!”

I ran to the door and looked out. Coming up the slope were two men, one supporting the other.

“Mistress!” I called and dashed for the bucket.

I tied my knot too hurriedly and lost the bucket down the well. Then I frantically had to search through the shed and house before finding another. The result was that I missed something.

Mistress Chervil had hurried out of her bedroom when she heard my call. Fern was already rising from her chair, opening the door wide and motioning the men towards the bed.

“He was bit,” Verde the goat keeper slowly eased Cleft his father onto the bed. “by a snake.”

Mistress looked for me and seeing only Fern ordered her, “Go to the store room and get me Costmary.”

Fern blinked and then vanished. Returning she held out some leaves of a freshly cut herb. Mistress Chervil took them from her and began pressing them over the mark on Cleft's leg.

“Fern.” she pulled back. “These are not costmary.”

Fern looked at the mistress, her face miserable.

“It is alright. The costmary--” Mistress Chervil began giving directions.

“Use it.” Fern's voice sounded strangled.

Mistress Chervil opened her mouth.

“Hurry,” Fern swallowed hard but rushed on. “It is Lion's Ear. It will help.”

“Fern--”

“I read it!”

Mistress Chervil looked at her hard.

“Alright, I will hold it on here but go fetch me the costmary as well.”

Fern vanished again. When she returned Mistress Chervil lifted the leaves and gasped. The two angry red marks from the snakes fangs hand nearly vanished and there was absolutely no swelling.

After she sent the father and son back home and I returned to the house with the belated water she turned to Fern.

“What did you say that was called?”

“Lion's Ear.” Fern cowered a little, obviously worried that my mistress would be upset.

“Where did you find it?”

“It grows about half way down the hill near the big rock.”

Mistress Chervil cocked her head. “I've never heard of it. Maybe I should reread some of those books Val is teaching you from.”

Later Mistress Chervil took me outside with her to feed the chickens. It was totally unnecessary do so I knew she had something she wished to speak to me about.

“You know she said that was Lion's Ear?”

I nodded and scattered a handful of grain.

“There is not a mention of any such thing in that book.”

I looked up. “Was she just making a wild guess?”

Mistress Chervil shook her head. “No, she knew. That was too lucky of a guess.”

Any new predictions? Whose your favorite character so far? Valerian?Mistress Chervil? Fern? Master Conifer? Elder Maple?

Kelpie

The Forgotten Memory

In honor of Grace, I let her name the main character in this story which I am now posting, on her birthday. A very happy birthday Grace and I hope you enjoy this story!

The Forgotten Memory

After Master Conifer, the Darag Village carpenter stumbled across her beaten and bloody body strewn over a patch of ferns he thought she was dead. He called Mistress Chervil, the village healer and my mistress, and she listened to the girl's heart. It was beating.

They brought her in our narrow doorway and Mistress Chervil, spotting me wide eyed, ordered me out to the well for fresh water.

“And grab some clean rags from the storage room on your way back in, Val!” she called after me.

I grabbed the tin bucket that was leaning against the outside of the log house and dashed down the hill as fast as my bare feet could carry me. This patient was not only a wreck, but someone I did not know, an unusual occurrence in our little corner of Fen Forest.

I shoved the details from my mind as I reached the well and lifted the rope Mistress always left coiled near by. I tied a quick knot around the bucket handle and then dropped it down into the watery depths.

My mind returned to the body just laid on the patient bed in our common room. I had seen some nasty wounds, but never so many on one person. Really, she was just a mass of bloody tissue. Shuddering I hauled the full pail back towards the light and then hurried up the hill, careful not to spill a drop. I snatched the bag of freshly washed and dried bandages on my way through the store room.

“Perhaps she is from--” I heard my mistress drop her sentence midway as I clattered into the room.

She stood up from the girl's bedside abruptly and waved the men out of the house. “Leave. I need to take care of the patient.”

We silently washed her as best we could, cutting off her clothes to make sure we found all of the gashes and bruises. She was pale and slender. Her hair wavy and light colored. Certainly she was not forest born. When we were finished bandaging, and I was preparing to clean up Mistress Chervil finally spoke.

“She is just wearing a simple weave. Why would anyone do this to a poor girl?”

I glanced up to see her fingering a scrap of the girl's dress.

“Maybe stole something?” I suggested, dumping the soiled rags into the wash basin.

My mistress shook her head and shrugged. “I suppose we will just have to ask her when she becomes conscious again. She is not from around here that is obvious.”

It was days before she woke up. My mistress and I both suspected she had lost a lot of blood.

Much to our relief though she did finally open her eyes. Those eyes! I liked to imagine they were blue as the ocean that I had never seen. Certainly, growing up in the forest like I had there was nothing else I had ever found which could come close to rivaling them.

“W-who ar-re you?” she asked as I bustled towards her with a bowl of soup.

“My name is Valerian though some just call me Val. I am the healer's apprentice. Here swallow some of this.” I held a spoon full of the broth to her mouth.

She pulled away. “Where I am?”

“Fen Forest, near Darag Village.” I waved the spoon in front of her eyes to remind her.

“What am I doing here?”

“We were rather hoping you could tell us that.” Mistress Chervil had come up behind me and was watching our patient closely.

“What is my name?” The girl's brow puckered and her large sapphire eyes roved over the room.

“Bless you child.” Mistress Chervil murmured and quickly turned away.

“I'm afraid we do not know dear. But we can call you Fern if you like.” I offered the spoon a third time.

My mistress turned back to me and frowned at the reference.

Valerian

But the girl said, “Okay.” and swallowed the soup.

Fern got better, painfully slowly. She had a broken arm, several cracked ribs and was so covered in stitches she resembled one of my mother's quilts. We were petitioning God that she sustained no internal injuries.

For the most part she laid in bed, or occasionally was propped up on pillows and silently watched us as we went about our work. When she did speak it was usually to ask some question about herself or her past.

“It must have been something very traumatic.” My mistress confided in me one day as we were pulling weeds from around the comfrey. “Sometimes people's brains wipe out everything in an effort to forget one devastating occurrence. She had head wounds as well, which could explain the memory loss.”

One day as I sat at the desk, pouring over a map on which Mistress Chervil had marked the best places for gathering specific herbs, I happened to turn towards Fern. Last I knew she had been napping peacefully but as I glanced toward her I realized she had awakened and was watching me. Her eyes were clear for once and unsettlingly piercing. It was just a brief glimpse before she groaned and the confused blank stare she usually wore slipped back over her face.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“Yes, I thank you. I think I was asleep and you made a move that startled me.”

“I am sorry.”

“No, no. I probably should not be dozing anyway. It means I will not sleep well tonight.” Her left hand stroked the bandages on her other arm, the one that was broken. “When do you think I will be able to get up?”

I shook my head. “ I do not know. I can ask Mistress Chervil if you would like.”

“No that's alright.” she smiled a slight, apologetic little smile. “I could not put you to that trouble. I can ask her at supper.” and then she turned to face the window near her bed.

“Can you read?” a sudden inspiration came to me.

“Read?” she turned back towards me.

“Yes. I'm sure my Mistress would let you have some books if you so chose.”

She gave me that sad little smile again.. “Reading is only for the rich, or learned like yourself.”

“But you could learn too!” I was getting excited now. “I'll teach you.”

Fern was even slower at learning her letters than a snail dragging a rock behind it. Though she always acted as if she enjoyed it I sometimes had the feeling that she was resisting my lessons. Letters that she had finally seemed to master would suddenly slip from her mind and have to be completely relearned.

I vented my frustration in whispers to Mistress Chervil one evening as we were tidying the storage room.

“Be patient. As I told you before, I'm sure she has some brain damage which may affect her long term memory. You're doing a good job.” she reached out and pulled one of my dark brown curls. It was an old gesture, one she had not done to me since I turned sixteen and had my coming of age party. Still I appreciated the gesture of affection.

“Now come,” she smiled. “Let us see if Fern would like to try getting up today since it is such a pleasant evening.”

Our patient complied, wincing as she moved her upper half.

She was tall, I realized when we got her standing. And her hair! I already knew it was lighter than any I had ever seen before, except for the elders, whose hair was white of course. But when she stood up, her hair fell to her waist in a mouse colored mass of waves. My mouth fell open a little. No forest born person would ever let their hair grow that long.

Mistress Chervil saw me gaping and made eye contact. We understood each other: this girl was from far, far away.

Interested in reading more? Any predictions?

Kelpie