Chapter 18
A Cottage of Her Own
1642 - (Retrospection) Dunnedin, Vanders
Starrling's ferry ride to Vanders was fairly uneventful, save for the fact that the constant bouncing of the craft was something she'd never experienced and therefore, found herself hanging over the side now and then. She was unable to eat any of the food she'd brought and truly had no desire for it anyway. Upon docking, she gratefully staggered down the gangplank and stood for a moment, relishing the stable earth below her. She closed her eyes and imagined her feet had become the roots of a young tree, sprouting and growing, burrowing their way into the soft earth, drinking in the moisture of the rain and dew. This was one of Starrling's methods of grounding and she could almost feel the leaves sprouting on her limbs and the forest animals coming to nest and burrow. Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and smiled at her surroundings.
Asking directions, she set out on foot towards Dunnedin, not minding the idea of another long journey. It gave her time to imagine how life would be tending her own cottage and land. Her visions were nothing compared to the reality that awaited her when she arrived. The cottage and barn were overgrown with vines and weeds, but the land surrounding seemed rich and farmable. She pulled enough growth from around the door of the cottage and walked right into a web of dust. A spider skittered across the floor.
"'Tis safe, Lord Spider, I will not hurt ye," she sighed in exhaustion. There were a few pieces of furniture but all were covered in dust. A good solid cauldron hung from the hook in the fireplace, a fact that made her smile for the first time. Setting her meager belongings in a corner, she covered her hair with her kerchief and got to work. The immediate plan was to shake out the pallet and bit of bedding as best she could, then get a good night's rest before tackling the rest of the cottage. Goddess only knew what awaited her in the barn.
She dragged the pallet and bedding outside and beat it with a fallen limb of a tree. It was not as clean as she would like, but it would do for the evening. Behind the cottage she found some wild mint growing against the wall and bent to admire it. Saying a little blessing, she pulled a few sprigs and retrieved a rickety bucket from inside the cottage. She took both down to the small nearby stream and rinsed the mint well. Filling the bucket found her humming a childhood tune, for the small movements were familiar and reminded her of home. Back inside, she set the water and mint aside and examined the cauldron. It was in fine shape, old and well used. This she also dragged down to the stream and, using dried leaves she scrubbed out the inside. It was nearing dusk and she was quite weary. Hurrying inside she set water and mint inside the cauldron, then turned back outside to fetch wood. Only dried leaves, fallen twigs and branches were chosen and with her flint, she started a meager fire on the hearth. Hanging the cauldron on the hook, she began a nice mint potion that would soothe her to sleep. As the fire grew and the water heated, she straightened the pallet and bedding. Standing in the middle of the room, she saw so much potential that a smile crept across her face. The minty fragrance began to fill the cottage and her stomach protested. Digging in one of her bags she found a bit of bread and an apple. This would be dinner and at this late hour, she considered it a feast. As she nibbled away and drank the warm potion, she looked about the cottage, comforting herself with dreams and plans for cleaning and decorating. The last bite of food gone, she saved a bit of potion to be reheated in the morning, perhaps with some wild sage added to it. She banked the fire, pulled her heavy cloak and the sparse bedding around herself for warmth and drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. Tomorrow would be finer, she knew in her heart.
Chapter 19
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