The Tales of Aylfenhame Compendium

Chapter Eight-1

Chapter Eight

She’s a sweet thing, that Isabel. I’ll not lie, I’d long felt a wish to know her better. But I’m not one to push. Even after Sophy’s move t’ Aylfenhame, Miss Isabel remained a proper young English Miss, an’ seemed to feel no desire to change that. Visitin’ wi’ the troll as keeps the toll-bridge made no part of ‘er thinkin’, an small wonder. Still, I felt in me bones that she was goin’ t’ need a little help Aylfenhame-side, an’ so I took meself thataways. That Ferryman’s a useful sort o’ chap, I’ll give ‘im that!

‘Course, even when ye are expectin’ visitors, they often appear when ye’ve just taken the decision to do sommat else. Ye’ll ‘ave noticed that, I’ll wager. When Miss Isabel an’ Sophy an’ the rest arrived, I ‘ad just got into the bath. Embarrassin’, an’ Miss Isabel — bein’ so proper — well, she ain’t the type to cope well wi’ the sight of the likes o’ me in naught but me smallclothes. Poor lass! She were as red as anythin’.

The visit to Balligumph was deferred until the following morning, as Sophy considered that Isabel’s day had been eventful enough. Secretly, Isabel agreed, for she was feeling the effects of her day of unexpected adventures. But an unfamiliar, and not wholly unpleasant, note of excitement was dancing somewhere within her. When combined with the stronger and much more familiar note of concern that lived alongside it, she was eager to proceed with the task she had impulsively set for herself.

She consented to rest and recover first, however; and thus it was early on the following day that she set out with Sophy, Aubranael, Lihyaen and Tafferty to visit the bridge-keeper of Tilby.

On the edge of Grenlowe there stood surprisingly expansive stables, given the size of the village (though Isabel had been told before that Grenlowe was larger than it appeared, with a great many dwellings hidden underground — and hidden by other means besides). The stable was called, peculiarly, Lurrock’s Leggy Beasts, and there it was possible to hire a host of different creatures for one’s travelling requirements.

Aubranael procured four ponies. They were not precisely as one might expect, being unusually long in the leg (as the title of their establishment implied), and displaying highly unorthodox colours as well. Isabel’s pony was a dainty, high-stepping mare whose gleaming coat was an enchanting, if odd, shade of pale lemon and whose braided mane and tail were dark gold. Lihyaen was mounted atop a slightly smaller, lavender pony; Sophy rode a white mare with a pearly coat; and Aubranael’s taller gelding was deep blue. The whole party set off for the Outwoods at once, leaving Grenlowe by its southern gate and advancing into the forests at a comfortable trot.

Balligumph’s dwelling was situated some way beyond the borders of Grenlowe, though not so very far. They travelled for less than an hour beneath the vastly tall, shady trees of the Outwoods before Sophy turned off the wide dirt road and plunged into the undergrowth. There was a path here, albeit a narrow one, and Isabel had to concentrate all of her attention on keeping to it — without permitting Tafferty, enthroned atop her mare’s neck, to be swept off by a protruding branch. So engrossed was she in this task that she did not immediately notice when Sophy reined in her mount, and she almost walked hers into the back of Aubranael’s horse.

‘Ah!’ came a great, booming voice from somewhere ahead — a voice she recognised as belonging to Balligumph. ‘Visitors! An’ me not fit to be seen. Hold yerselves steady fer just a second or two, an’ I shall be at yer disposal.’

Isabel moved forward during this speech, and then regretted that she had, for she beheld two sights, one of them a little disconcerting.

The first was a large hillock rising from the ground immediately before her, surrounded on three sides by trees tall and wide of trunk, their bark ranging in hue from nut-brown to old gold. Fallen cinnamon-coloured leaves lay strewn all over the packed dirt of the ground. Into the side of this hillock, someone had built a house. Blocks of honey-coloured stone formed a front wall, into which a door easily eight feet tall had been set, along with two large windows of irregular shape. The top of the hillock formed the roof of the house, liberally grown over with velvety moss. It suited Balligumph well, Isabel thought, for it combined elements of his quirky character with a great deal of practicality.

In front of the house, and a little way to the side, there was a large pool of muddy-looking water. Isabel could readily suppose it to be deeper than it appeared, for Balligumph was immersed up to his neck, his pale blue hair slicked against his head and dripping water. As he spoke he began to lever himself up out of the pool, revealing an enormous torso liberally covered in hair. Shocked, Isabel averted her gaze and stared resolutely at the trees to the left of the house, listening as sounds of heavy splashing split the clearing.

Sophy was laughing. ‘My goodness! We are terribly sorry to interrupt your bath, Mr. Balligumph. Is it the first one this year?’

‘Tsh,’ said Balligumph with a chuckle. ‘I won’t say as it is, an’ I won’t say as it isn’t neither. Ye mind yer tongue, Miss Sophy.’

Isabel heard the door open and close as he disappeared into the house, and judged herself safe to turn back to the rest of her party.

Aubranael grinned at her. ‘Balli takes a little getting used to,’ he said, kindly enough, and Isabel nodded, aware that her cheeks were very warm.

Mr. Balligumph returned a few moments later, properly attired in the long trousers and boots, shirt, waistcoat and jacket he preferred, his hat crowning his still-damp locks. Isabel was always surprised anew at how enormous he was: vastly taller than she, and wider by far. He had tusks, too, on each side of his mouth, which ought to be fearsome. But his manner was so friendly, and his smile so congenial in spite of the tusks, that Isabel found it hard to be afraid of him.

‘Come inside!’ he invited, opening his door wide and beckoning with a vast sweep of his arm. ‘I ‘ave arranged fer tea an’ somethin’ sweet to please ye.’

Isabel dismounted carefully. There did not seem to be anywhere to tie up her mount, but this did not trouble any of her companions. She followed their lead in looping up the reins of her mare, and letting her wander.

Within a few moments she entered Balligumph’s kitchen, a surprisingly spacious room built from stone, with a large round table in the centre. The chairs were all of different sizes: one was fully large enough to accommodate Balligumph himself, and it was upon this one that he seated himself in due course. The others varied: some were sized for human (or, more likely, Ayliri) guests while others were tiny, if very tall — just right to seat a brownie, perhaps, or a hob. Tafferty freely appropriated one of these, ignoring Isabel’s invitation to sit by her.

Balligumph served tea in surprisingly delicate cups. These, too, were of different sizes: Isabel’s was of normal proportions, albeit breathtakingly exquisite, while Balli’s more nearly resembled a bucket. All were made from airy glass, as thin as a butterfly’s wing, and swirled with iridescent colours. She picked up hers gingerly, certain that it would break the moment she lifted it from the table. It did not, however, bearing its load of pale green tea with ease. They were not at all what she would have expected the troll to possess; nor were the tiny, white-iced cakes which he soon afterwards served. They bore a fragility and a delicacy which seemed wholly at odds with the troll’s pragmatic, down-to-earth manner and attire — not to mention his size.

‘I bid ye welcome, Miss Isabel, t’ Aylfenhame,’ Mr. Balligumph said, handing her a plate of lacy biscuits with a wink. ‘Tis a shock, no doubt, but I am certain in me own mind that ye’ll adapt, and soon at that. Ye’re a lively lass, an’ wi’ no small measure o’ sense in yer brain.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Isabel, unsure what else to add. She was not required to speak much, for Balligumph went swiftly on.

‘Sir!’ he said delightedly. ‘I like that! What a polite little miss ye are. Miss Sophy, there; she gave up on Sirrin’ me long ago.’ He twinkled at Sophy, who smiled in response. ‘An’ the princess, why, she don’ like to be addressed as Her High-an’-Mightiness no matter how charmin’ I am in sayin’ it.’

Lihyaen paused with her mouth full of cake, and shook her head vigorously.

‘There, now,’ said Balligumph with a good-natured chuckle, ‘I’ll no’ torment ye by doin’ it. Anyhow. Tell me yer business in comin’.’

Sophy looked at Isabel. ‘It is on Isabel’s account that we are here, sir,’ she said with a twinkle. ‘She encountered the Ferryman, as I imagine you know.’

Balligumph grinned, displaying enormous pearly-white teeth. ‘Ye’re by no means slow on the uptake either, Miss Sophy! Aye, I did know. I was commissioned, ye may say, t’ convey Miss Isabel t’ Aylfenhame by some means or other, an’ word ‘ad already reached me o’ yon Ferryman’s return. How did ye find the trip?’ This last was directed at Isabel, his head turning to fix her with a golden-eyed stare.

Isabel swallowed a bite of cake, and set down her exquisite tea cup. ‘It was remarkable, sir, as you may imagine,’ she said. ‘I never thought to fly! And in a boat, of all things! I enjoyed it very much.’

Balligumph nodded. ‘Thas wonderful,’ he said, beaming. ‘But ye ‘ave not come all this way to see me just to tell me that. Out wi’ the rest, now.’

So Isabel told him everything about her conversation with the Ferryman, ending with her promise to find his name. Balligumph’s eyebrows lifted near to his hair at her words, but instead of being shocked or alarmed, as Lihyaen and Aubranael had been, Balligumph broke into a vast, gusty laugh. ‘Ye did not!’ he bellowed. ‘Ah! Tha’ would’ve fair knocked the wind out o’ his sails, I’ll wager.’

‘It did,’ Isabel agreed. ‘I do not think he believed me, quite.’

‘Well he might not! Tha’ a green young miss out of England should show up an’ do what no one in Aylfenhame would’ve! Present company excepted,’ he added, with a nod at the rest of his guests. ‘An’ wi’ no more notion than a babe’s o’ what she’s got her good self into! Well, well. I applaud ye fer it, Miss Isabel. Twas kindly done, an’ brave.’

Isabel coloured. ‘But I do not know how to find his name,’ she said simply. ‘Sophy thought that you might.’

Balligumph tugged on the curled end of one of his tusks, thinking deeply. Nobody spoke while he did so, for they understood that he was perusing his considerable mental catalogue of facts, a task which might take some time. Isabel applied herself to her tea, which was deliciously refreshing, and consumed a few of his pretty cakes and biscuits before he finally spoke.

‘The Ferryman’s name ‘as been lost a long, long time,’ he said. ‘Even I cannot tell ye how long, exactly. So! If ye wish fer guidance, ye must consult someone a deal older’n me.

‘The difficulty wi’ that, though, is as follows: the Ferryman is not the only one o’ the old folk to fade. It’s ‘appened to many since the Times o’ Trial, as they call them Kostigern days. An’ even more so since the loss o’ the Royal folk.’ He said this with a kindly nod at Lihyaen, who frowned and disappeared into her tea.

‘But!’ said Balligumph, brightening. ‘The Ferryman isn’t the only one to return, neither. Folk ‘ave been wakin’ up. Some good folk, some less so, but folk, an’ so yer options are not so very limited as all that.’ He paused to think for a little while longer, tugging again at his tusk and humming something low and tuneless to himself. ‘I ‘ave just the person,’ he pronounced at last. ‘Old as the hills, so they say, though I dunnot think he is quite so old as all that. Some few o’ yer centuries, at any rate, an’ he’ll maybe ‘ave a fair guess to make as to where else ye should go.’

Balligumph clapped one great hand down upon his hat, settling it more firmly upon his head, and stood up from the table. ‘No time like instantly, an’ without delay!’ he declared, and strode to the door. Isabel hastened to follow, Tafferty close upon her heels.

‘Get yer pretty ponies,’ Balligumph called, already striding away into the forest. ‘Ye’ll never keep up wi’ me elsewise!’ He proved his point as he spoke, for his long legs ate up the pathway; already he was disappearing into the trees. Fortunately, turning the mounts loose had not been a mistake. They were gathered in a little group not far from the house, grazing placidly upon the sumptuous grass.