The Legend of the Lady in the Forest by Jo Gregory
Deep in a woodland glade, sunbeams filtered through the branches of the ancient oak, ash and thorn. A path woven by deer was well worn and threaded through the undergrowth. The only clue that someone lived there was the small curl of wood smoke and the tip of a small chimney within the leaves. It was an ancient dwelling with worn walls, clambering roses and small windows under ragged thatch and ivy. The roof gave a haven to many creatures including sickled swallows diving for insects to feed their young.
No one came here. Legends and folklore passed across generations had warned of a woman, elusive and strange sometimes seen wandering the woods with a basket and muttering. In local hostels word would pass of her ability to vanish with a swirl of her old cloak.
The girl was desperate. Her chest heaved and her breath was ragged. Her dress was torn through running in blackthorn thickets and brambles, her hair tangled in a halo around her head. She had run like the wind from the village, morning dew soaking her clothes. Her face showed her determination as she paused and then opened the old gate to the cottage beyond. Eyes fixed on the door to calm he nerves she knocked and waited. No sound came from within but the door eased open slowly and after a moment she crossed the threshold.
In the shadows of the inglenook fireplace a voice said “ Welcome child” in a soft lilting accent By the light of the fire she could see a woman, long black hair framed her smiling face and eyes like pools looked kindly upon the child. “What has brought you to my door?”. Knowing the tales told about her within the village and beyond she watched the girls face show a mix of emotions and waited. “It is my sister lady, she is grievously ill and we cannot find a cure to lift what ails her. My, my mother does not know I am here”, she said faintly wringing her hands in distress. Coaxing the girl to the fireside so she could dry her wet clothes and sup a warm drink, the woman listened whilst she told of her sister and her wounds. She had been gathering mushrooms on the woodland edges and had been charged by a boar. Luckily her father had been nearby and dealt with the beast but it was too late to avoid the wounds inflicted upon her.
After a while the lady said “ Go child into my garden and find the boundary wall to the stream. There you will find my herb garden and other plants which bear aid. Seek what you feel will help your sister and I will wait for you here with the water boiling”. The girl was puzzled, why send herself when the lady could assist. She didn’t waste a moment though even when the woman called after her “ Weed the herb bed and I will help you”.
At the edge of the garden the girl found many plants wet with dew and colourful in the morning light. She paused and then chose the beautiful and fragrant, the softest herbs and flowers she could find. Once she had done weeding she headed back at the cottage she put her basket on the large oak table where the lady stood smiling. The girl was quite a sight with her face scratched and bleeding from brambles and her dress tattered as she had fought the tangle of branches winding around the cottage. The lady looked at the bounty in the basket. “I see you have brought me the beautiful and fragrant”. The girl nodded hopefully. “Can I tell you a secret?” the lady whispered drawing the child closer. Nodding the girl sat on a thee legged stool and listened intently.
The woman smoothed her apron and busied herself with her pestle and mortar, boiling water and knife. “ Is is often the small and frail, the foul smelling and spreading that holds the medicine we need. It can be the plants that warm us and please the eye that we first choose, but there are other powerful choices to be made. Go back now and seek a plant with small pink flowers and red weaving stems and roots. You will know it when you touch it as its smell is repugnant. This soul smells of fox, of musty earth and a bitter tone but she holds a power not well known but vital to those that know her”.
Rising the girl stood, emptied her basket and went in search of this plant that held such curious secrets. She soon found the flowers arching over rocks and tucked into crevices in the wall. Wrinkling her nose as she pulled the stems with thanks she filled her apron. Returning and seating herself on the stool again she watched as the lady placed the herb in a container and began mashing the plant gently. “ This plant has many names from fox geranium, death come quickly, to stinking bob and squinters pip, but she is also known as blood weed giving a clue to one of her many powers. She can help heal your sister’s wounds and build her strength. She does so much more than this but we have little time to speak of that right now”. She placed the tonic in a clay vessel and wrapped the remainder of the plant in a cloth for the girl to carry.
As she watched the woman complete the task the girl saw a glimpse of tendril and blue on her arm, just beyond the sleeve of her dress. “What is that on your arm lady” she asked. The woman sighed gently and considered for a moment. “Many fear me as you know and I live alone here in the woods for a reason. None understand my herb craft but many seek it quietly, as you have done”. The girl nodded. “ I come from a long line of women taught this craft from generation to generation and we have strong communion with the plant world as a result. These images appear on my arm as I work with a new plant. These are a memory of the beauty and power of a plant and an offering to them also. She pulled her sleeve up further to show a myriad of plants curled and entwined up her arm disappearing under her cloak.”
Pausing she considered her next words carefully as she did not want to frighten the child. “Watch” she said quietly. Placing her finger on a plant tattoo she traced the lines carefully and as she did so the image released small motes of golden light. The girl gasped. “This is our secret and the core of our work from mother to daughter and onwards throughout the females of our line. Our energy combines with that of the plant and enhances its gift and power for healing. You must tell no one of this”. The girl nodded slowly and in amazement at what she had just seen.
She remained curious and sought more knowledge which filled the day till the sun was high in the sky. The lady said “You need to go now and tend to your sister. Would you like to return and work with me?. She had seen that the girl had an aptitude and enthusiasm she sorely needed “You must bring your mother next time as she must be at peace with this”. The girl smiled and rose with heartfelt thanks. Smoothing her hand over the child’s wrist the lady kissed her forehead and when the girl looked down a tiny image of the herb she had gathered circled her wrist.
A clock struck from within the cottage and reminded them both of the day and the need to hasten to the village. The girl ran, her spirits high and the musical lilt of the woman’s voice in her head saying “Never forget, that which repels you may be just what you need; it may be unpleasant and repel you but deep within if we stay a minute and consider, you will find the plant willing to help you if you accord respect and care”.
As the sun began to wane in the late afternoon and chores were completed, the lady sat and staring into the fire knew the next generation of healers would be part human combining the power of the plant kingdom and fae, to protect the land and reinforce the bonds that existed and could be strengthened for future generations. One lesson has been learnt today and many more stretched ahead for the child. Reaching for the record of plants and cures the woman added to her record of the medicine Herb Robert-as it would be known- contained and tracing her finger on the page drew a perfect image of the plant for the child to see on her return. June 2021
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