by Paul Charles
“And then it dawned on him. Finn had an idea which would solve his problems. He quickly headed inland to the soft country around Ballyroan. There he lifted a handful of soil out of the earth and returned once more to the Antrim coast where he flung the handful of earth out over the sea. The earth sod landed about halfway between the two land masses; Finn now took a few steps back, took a rush up the coast leapt out over the sea one foot landing on the sod he had just thrown out and with his next hop he was standing right next to Dorothy.
“Finn and Dorthy were soon wed and lived happily ever after. The piece of earth Finn had thrown out to sea became known as The Isle of the Man called Finn, later to be shortened to ‘The Isle of Man’. The hole in the earth at Ballyroan soon filled up with water and became known as ‘Lough Neagh’.”
With that Mud ended his tale and the reverent silence with which everyone had observed while listening to Mud soon broke as the fairies stood up and cheered and clapped and danced. Mud joined them once again in the merry making and started dancing with one of the three dancers who had previously entertained.
Suddenly and sharply Mud came to his senses and realised he was dancing in the moonlight around the bushes with an imaginary partner. So it had all been a dream. Or, had it; in the distance he could hear the church bells chime midnight, so perhaps the Black Prince had kept his promise after all… perhaps…
Chapter Four - THE VALLEY OF THE MUDGEMEN
Mud, now as the minutes quickly sped past, became less and less related to his life, as he had once lived it. Cares of today had passed, could it be that he had started to live, could it be that when one became tied to seeking success and fortune, one thought more of tomorrow than of today and then later in life to wish for what was, but will never again be? Could it be, Mud pondered a bit on his thoughts and then decided that it wasn’t even worth thinking about and began to search out some shelter for the night. Happy as he might be, happiness couldn’t shield him from the cold.
He had now travelled outside the limits of his geographical knowledge. True he had heard of other lands, of other kinds of people that did weird and wonderful things. But previous to this adventure, twenty miles either side of his home had been the limit of his travel or expedition into the unknown, as it were. The sea, he was told, was a large pond where all the waters lay waiting to be called as rain to wet the land and quench the thirst of the men and women therein. The north of his own country was as far fetched to him as England, or even, or that matter, the moon was.
Talking about the moon, Mud sure felt happy and safe that there was one at that moment in time and that it was lighting the path he now carefully trod. About two o’clock the same morning he had just crowned a hill when to his left, and his surprised, he noticed a jaunting car slowly making its way along. The jaunting car’s driver was quite ‘merry’ and was singing away to himself as he trod along.
The driver offered Mud a lift, which Mud gratefully accepted and as they made their way along Mud explained his situation and was more than relived when the driver, whose name turned out to be Seamus Sweetly, offered to put Mud up for the night at this village.
It took them about half an hour to wind their way down into this valley and just on the outside of the village they were stopped by two rather small strange looking characters. When Seamus dismounted to talk to them Mud noticed that Seamus was of the same small stature. The village was set out symmetrically with one very large hut in the centre surrounded in concentric circles of smaller huts and then on the outer limit there was a large spiked fence.
After a few minutes Seamus led the jaunting car and horse into the village and left Mud at a visitors hut.
Mud woke as the sunlight melted through the holes in the wall and painted crazy patterns on his face. The air smelt very fresh and Mud’s eyes, when they had become accustomed to the morning light, began to wander around the walls of the hut. It was all very colourful with blankets dyed with the colours of various roots and flowers, covering the walls excepting the one housing the door.
Mud was just gathering his senses when a young lady entered the hut. She was of the same stature of the three men Mud had seen on the previous night.
“Good morning stranger,” she said. She spoke very quietly and with slow pronounced diction. She continued, “My name is Annie Austere and I have been asked to look after you while you remain with us.”
“I’m known as Mud Flanigan.” Mud felt awkward, he didn’t know whether to bow, or smile, or shake hands, or what. Annie smiled at his hesitation and extended her hand. A bond of friendship was sealed by a gentle shaking of the hands.
“If you would like to wash, by the river,” she began pointing out of the door and over to the north side of the village, “I’ll have some food ready for you when you return.”
Mud swam about the river for a time, it was cold, but, at the same time, very refreshing and relaxing all his body. He dried himself and, without thinking, reached to his bag to fetch a clean shirt; a very colourful one and one which he usually wore only on Sundays with his best boots and trousers. Mud realised why he had made the gesture and became quite annoyed with himself.
Over breakfast Mud hoped Miss Austere wouldn’t notice his shirt. But he was safe, or so he assumed because she just sat there contently watching him eating her food, happy that he was enjoying it so much. Mud observed she wasn’t eating and so invited her to join in.
“No thank you,” she replied, “I seldom eat.”
Mud thought from the slimness of her figure that this was statement was, in fact, not far from the truth.
They sat, Mud eating, Annie staring.
Mud was beginning to become hypnotised by her beauty. Her face was snow white and looked as though it would feel very soft. Her hair was jet black, very long and parted in the middle so that it hung down each side of her thin and sharp featured faced.
Mud felt awkward in her company. He had never been in a young girl’s company for so long in his life before. He had once followed his cousin, Maureen, out into her back garden and sneaked a quick kiss under the apple tree. He was only thirteen at the time and Maureen had ran into the house screaming. Mud’s efforts in love making was rewarded with a good hiding and put off to bed early without any supper.
Yes, that was the closest he’d ever been to a young lady before. But now, here he was with a beautiful young lady who seemed as preoccupied with him as he was with her.
The couple spent the rest of the day together; the bond becoming stronger and stronger as the day wore one. Mud told her all about his parents and even showed her his grandfather’s ‘magical’ eye piece with which Mud showed Annie a few tricks. He explained all about his search for the end of the rainbow and his want for to bury his fortune there.
As they walked through the forest Annie explained to Mud that he stumbled upon a tribe known as Mudgemen and they were true Irish country folk who were very quiet and very friendly and had always lived by the land. That was until recently. In the last few months they had been on the receiving end of a lot of trouble and bother from the lord of a nearby manor. This lord, known as Lord Lightlead, would, with all his men, keep coming over burning down huts and stealing crops and young ladies. Annie explained that had been the reason why they had pooled all their strength into one village.
“Why don’t you battle with the lord and settle it once and all,” inquired Mud, breaking a stick from the hedge and going into battle with an army of nettles whipping them all out in three victorious strokes bowing his victory to the princess who in return, for his valour, gave him her lace handkerchief.
“Well,” began Annie at the close of the drama, “The people of Mudgemen Valley are not men of war; they are men of the earth. Their conquests are not battle fields full of dead bodies.” She paused and her fingers spun an arc over the shred nettles. “Their conquests are a good harvest, a good litter, rain to wash the land in answer to their prayers, honest children and a loyal wife. Their needs are simple ones and as such
they take a lot of pleasure from life.”
“That may well be so and ’tis a good way to lead ones life. But peace, and easy life, loving, people can’t just stand around and let evil men destroy their land,” replied Mud, slightly taken aback with his own emotional involvement in the affair.
Annie had now taken hold of his hand.
As they walked on dusk fell and they could feel a soft mizzle moisten their faces. The rain became heavier and the couple made their way back to the village, Mud placing his jacket on Ann’s shoulders and as he did so an intimate smile lit up their faces. It was one of those ever so rare moments in life when words are not needed to communicate feelings. The village was haloed with a red sky from the fires on their return and they ate a hearty meal with the rest of the villagers in the larger central hut.
Later that night, when the rain had lifted they all sat around the village fire singing songs of their fathers. It was strange hearing some of the tales told in songs. Maybe, about a hundred or so years ago, they had started out as being true stories or reflections of life and the only way to record the events was to make them into songs which fathers would sing to their children who would in turn sing them to their children and so on. Every so often a verse would be added or changed to make the songs more interesting or dramatic and it now had reached the point where the songs were just so far removed from the originals that they just weren’t true; just weren’t true at all.
As the night grew on the Mudgemen gradually made their way back to their various places of abode and Annie walked Mud back to his guest hut. Both lost completely for words, Mud pecked her on the cheek and they parted for the night. Before falling asleep Mud reflected on the events of the day. He couldn’t understand exactly what he felt about Annie and he still was trying to when he fell into a deep sleep.
Mud was sharply awoken by the noise of Lord Lightlead and his men plundering and stealing around the village. By the time Mud had gathered his senses he could see a few huts had been torn down, cows slaughtered where they stood, chickens stolen from their pens and children grasped from their mother’s arms to be taken away and trained as servants in Lightlead’s castle.
The men of Mudgemen Valley whom offered any resistance to the plundering, and there were a few that did, were either beaten into the ground on the spot or taken away to be whipped as an example to other would-be revolutionaries. Lord Lightlead was careful to ensure his men committed no actual killings because that would give the King of the land the right to banish Lord Lightlead.
Lord Lightlead stopped dead in his tracks when he spied Mud Flanigan. He just didn’t fit in. He was like a hen at a roosters party. His clothes were ‘funny’ to the Lord, and he was much taller than anyone else around. Lord Lightlead cantered over in front of Mud and dismounted.
“From whence came you,” snarled Lord Lightlead in a deep English voice. Mud now realised what Annie had meant when she said that Lightlead spoke with a foreign tongue. Before Mud had a chance to draw his senses together and make an attempt at answering Annie Austere ran between them and proclaimed,
“Be careful my Lord, for you stand before not another from Mudgemen Valley, but a magician from the skies. His name is Mud and he is visiting our land in search of the rainbow end so he may leave his magical secrets and fortune there and return to the skies.”
Mud was as shocked by this statement as the Lord was. Lightlead, now rather unsure of himself, tried to stress his superiority mainly because he had noticed that all his men had stopped their plundering and fighting and had gathered around this amazing being, gazing in awe at him. At last Lightlead spoke, breaking the silence, “What proof can ye offer to justify these words.”
Mud was, needless to say, once again lost for words and as he was deciding how to answer the Lord, Annie again came to his rescue, “It is useless for him to speak to you because he speaks with a tongue of the skies and so you couldn’t understand him. But he can give you a sign. He can command the strength of the sun without flint, stone or fat.” Annie began, her mind racing on as she recalled the feat Mud had performed on the previous day.
“This I can’t believe,” snarled Lightlead, “Tis impossible to create fire from nothing. Wait till the skies are warmed by the sun and he will show you,” returned Annie.
Mud thought that it was about time that he got in on the act so he muttered, “Wycan zebro nikeye Iam ba drambie.”
The Lord and his men stepped back in fear. Annie, trying very hard to keep a straight face ‘interrupted,’ “Mud wants to return to his hut so that he may prepare for ‘The Feast of the Fire’.
At midday, when the sun ruled the heaves from the highest point they all assembled outside the central hut. The Mudgemen sat in a semi-circle, with the Lord’s men completing the circle around Annie, Lightlead and Mud who were squatting in the centre.
Mud, in his retreat to the hut and with Annie’s assistance had dressed the part, wearing all the colourful decorations he could find. Annie had painted his face to make him look very mystical, complete with crazy patterned cloak and white top hat.
Mud very slowly and with great deliberation removed his granddad’s reading glass and placed it between his forefinger and thumb and raised it high in the air above his head focusing the rays of heat into a small pile of very dry straw and twigs placed on the ground before them. After a few minutes smoke began to rise slowly from the pile and as it did Lightlead’s eyes became transfixed to the pile. Indeed the entire company stood in stare as Mud called up to the heaven, “Las Zairn Getio.”
“Las Zairn Gatio,” he repeated and just then the pile of tinder broke into flame. Not before time, thought Mud; he was beginning to think that his granddad’s eye piece was going to fail him for the very first time.
But there it was, before all their eyes. He had called the Sun and the Sun had produced fire for him. Mud now had another idea. He pointed his free forefinger to the fire. This kept everyone’s eyes magnetized to it. Out of the corner of his eyes Mud looked at Lightlead and now focused the rays of heat onto a frayed end of his jacket and slowly, but surely, smoke began to rise, and then gentle flames grew out of the jacket. Lightlead’s eyes were still transfixed to the original fire and before had noticed t he flames on his own person they had grown into quite a blaze.
Up he jumped and ran away screaming in search of the river followed closely by his men all running for the hills for their lives.
“Mi zal blink wal fay dedoom,” screamed Mud at the top of his voice after them.
Annie quickly translated, “Harm these poor people again and I’ll burn you all to ash.”
All the people of Mudgemen Valley burst into laughter when they saw the Lord jump into the river and frantically splash about trying to quench the fire.
Love; but a word seldom to speak, often to show
When the fuss had died down and everyone started to repair the damage that had been caused earlier that morning Annie and Mud were alone once more.
They both were aware of the other’s thoughts. Mud took her hand and they headed off into the fields. The sun was still high and what better backing for a couple in love than the countryside in the spring time. They ran and shouted and danced. They ran in and out of the sheep in one field, made faces, from a distance of course, at a bull in the next and raced on cows in the next. On and on continued their frolics as a direct result of their energy and the happiness. Mud hadn’t known that such elation could exist on this planet, although he’d often dreamed of it.
Then came THE KISS.
How can you describe the first kiss of two people in love; a heard of elephants crashing? Perhaps even the heavens falling to the earth? No, this was none such thing. This was simple perfection; true beauty captured forever in a moment; a gentle but passionate touch of lips to seal a feeling for a lifetime. No words could reach such heights of ecstasy.
Another two had failed prey to the greatest game of mankind: love.
Two days ago reflected Mud… oh bother to two
days ago and the life it bore, forget it, it’s all now, now, now he mustn’t lose one second of it.
“Annie,” began Mud after they had walked in silence for a few minutes.
“Yes Mud?”
“You know that tomorrow morning I must be on my way.”
“Yes” returned Annie again, this time a lot quieter.
“And I want you to come with me ‘cause I can’t see life existing without you, soppy that may seem but I’ve never been a great one with words and I can’t find any other way to put it.”
Mud, now very unsure of his words, spoke very cautiously.
Annie let silence reign for a few moments before making her reply, “Mud, dear, I can’t leave with you tomorrow. The time is not right for us to be together. We both have things to do before we can commit out lives to each other. You have a want in your mind to find the end of the rainbow. If you settle with me now at this moment in time then that one longing of yours will always come between our happiness.