An old man, his face merry as the morning sun stepped through the door of the inn, a quiet day, though children played about, watched by two women no doubt giving the other mothers a rest, for there were too many children to be mothered by two. The day was fairly new, and beams of light invaded the darkness of the room, the dust highlighted as specks, as though miniscule wisps dancing through the air.
The young and fair barmaid eyed the strangest of strangers curiously, looking to the two child sitters, who in turn, halted their gossiping, to gaze upon the elderly looking man, clad in red robe and yellow scarf, they gazed mostly though, upon his blue pointed hat, and his great wood-frame pack, herbs all-a-dangle and trinkets-a-jangle. "Ho! Good morn'!" he exclaimed, stating it for the good and merry moments that he had just passed, wandering through the sleepy village of Combe. Silence, the women merely stared, though not intimated, more enthralled by his grandfatherly smile beaming over his over humble state. The barmaid, slipping from her lengthy gaze, cast a smile "Good morning Old Father! What is it I could help you with?" Brigferth smiled ever more at this, he tipped the hat from his head, hanging it upon a wooden stave upon his pack. "A mug of boiled water, and a chair for a brief respite, if you please? I haven't the coin, though, for I merely wander to and fro'." The maid gave him a quizzical look, nodding slowly as he spoke.
"Take a chair, Old Father" she said, for that is what name she had settled on for him "I'll see about boilin' some up for you!" She showed kindness and set about with a kettle, filling it with water and hanging it above the fireplace. The children by now sat, watching, they had not seen such a man, they spoke amongst themselves, weaving stories for their absent friends. Brigferth eyed them, going about loading his pipe, "wizard" and "magic" were few of the many words he managed to pick out of the hushed corner, he left them to their imagination, he set his heavy pack down, which stood next to him as he sat himself down in a creaking chair, though, possibly, it could have been his old and weary bones. He looked to, and thanked the maid as she brought him a mug, filled almost to the brim of hot water, he held it in a hand, his other rifling in one of the many pockets of his sack, bringing out a pouch and tipping its contents into the cup, which he stirred with a tea spoon, which hung from string from this ever useful pack. He beckoned to the children, chuckling as he spoke 'Ho children! I am no wizard, or worker of magic!' He sipped, and lit his pipe, watching the children who in turn, eyed the watching mothers before coming close, and they sat as he told them a troubling fable, and his words, spoke exactly like this..
"Once, there lived a Man, and I know this, because I knew him, I was but your own age! He was a wonderful Man, for he did not give in to the greed and rumours of other men, even of his own kin! To him, morning dew clinging to grass and flowers was like, pearls and diamonds! The ponds and lakes, a mirror to the great blue sky, and the stars, beauty beyond measure! The sunlight at dawn, to him, produced shimmering colours like a mosaic. All the trees of the woods and hills about his home were, to him, a vaulted castle hall! Within it, birds sung as a choir, but one day! One day, a Traveller came upon him, as he was picking his berries for dinner, being a kind hearted Man, he welcomed The Traveller inside, to his own sorrowful demise.. The Traveller, as the man passed him a bowl of berries, and a bottle of cider from the same fruit, asked why he dwelt here, far from the reaches of town walls and other folk, the Man replied 'for I have all the riches in the world here, diamonds and pearls a plenty! All the food any man could need!' The traveller smiled, and gobbled down his berries, and downed the cider almost in one! Not savouring one bite. He stood and made for the door, and the man asked him, 'why do you leave?' The traveller turned and exclaimed, through a greedy and forboding mouth "I am an explorer, and I must tell of this place! You have made me a rich man!' With that, the traveller left, and the Man lived, unsettled and worried for many days, until, A mob stood at his door, the Traveller knocked upon it, and ordered him, guide them to the riches. At this the Man laughed at the traveller, he told him of the diamonds and pearls, the dew upon the grass and flowers, and how he found all he wanted in the woods and hills. The traveller felt mocked, and the towns people laughed at him, the Traveller became angry, and had a rope and stool fetched, for his temper boiled, and the Man wept for his foolishness, at telling the man of the world of his own riches. The mob left the man hanging from his most beloved tree, and burned his home, and in desperation for some riches, dug his home up, and burned his cottage..."
With finishing the tale, Brigferth shed a tear, and many more once he had left at the memory of his nature loving father.
