Chapter 5: Primroses
Have you ever wondered about the birth of words, their history? 'Endless' for instance; without the end. Or 'breakfast'; from breaking your fasting. And a very interesting one, the 'primrose'. Exactly: a prim Rose. No, not the flower, the girl.
Once upon a time there lived a hunter deep in the forest. His wife died when giving birth to his precious daughter, so he had to raise his child on his own. He did a good job and the babe grew into a healthy girl and then into a serious young woman.
Since she grew up in the woods, she learned a lot about the plants and trees, the berries and the flowers. Over the years the girl earned herself a reputation for healing and if someone needed a potion, a salve or a poultice, they went to the hunter's daughter. Well, not exactly.
Ever since his wife died the hunter had been a little odd. At first people told each other he was grieving for his wife. Then they whispered he wanted to spare his daughter the fate of her mother. Whatever his reasons, the hunter made sure his daughter never mingled with the children from the villages nearby and when she was older he never allowed her to meet young men. He guarded his little girl as if she were the most valuable possession in the world. And she was precisely that, to him.
Whenever someone needed her services they could leave a note with the teacher who gave it to the hunter who gave it to his daughter. The remedies traveled the same way backwards, from the daughter to the hunter to the teacher to the person who needed them. Of course, there was a lot of speculation but all the villagers ever found out was her name, Rose.
Over the years people got used to the strange ways of the hunter and they even seemed to forget the young woman in the forest until, one day, the teacher waited for the hunter in vain. He waited one day, then a second day and finally on the third day he decided to search for his messenger. Not sure what he could expect, the teacher asked the son of the smith to go with him.
This Hugh was big and strong but not the brightest of men. He had been a kind and friendly child, but gullible too and the other children in the village had often teased him mercilessly. It had made him wary and afraid of people, and the only thing that had saved him from further harassment was his size. Hugh had grown into a man with broad shoulders and a wide chest, legs like tree trunks and lungs like bellows.
Hugh was a bit afraid to go to new places, but he had learned to keep that kind of feeling secret. Besides, what would be the point of telling the teacher he didn't want to go into the forest? The man had never listened to what Hugh wanted or not wanted. Not once had he protected the slow boy from his cruel peers, so there was no reason for Hugh to expect something better now.
The teacher was a tall gaunt man, slowly turned sour over the years spent in teaching the children of backward villagers instead of the sons and daughters of noble folk. He secretly thought Hugh was just a walking lump of clay and he merely wanted him along for the use of his muscles if the need arose.
Thus the two of them set off in silence, the teacher not wanting to talk with such a dumb-witted hulk and the young man mistrustful of the teacher and life in general. As the hunter had always called on the teacher, the latter was not sure where the hunter lived. Therefore he asked Hugh to lead the way. Hugh was barely able to read and write, but he knew all there was to know about following tracks. His father had at one time wondered aloud if he really was his son and not the son of the hunter. His wife's cursing and screaming had put his mind at rest on that one though. Besides, Hugh was the spitting image of his father with his dark hair and brown eyes.
As they had to search their way it took them all day and half of the second as well to reach the house deep in the forest. It stood in a clearing, in the middle of a beautiful garden filled with all kinds of flowers and herbs. The fruit trees at the back of the house looked like blushing brides with their limbs covered in bloom and the air was full of fragrant smells. A few birds sat twittering on the rooftop and a small wisp of smoke swirled from the chimney.
For a moment the teacher watched the peaceful scene but his reverie was interrupted the door of the fairytale house opened and the hunter's daughter stepped out. Both men held their breath as they saw her emerge into the sunshine. Her long blond hair shone like gold and her arms and legs were the color of honey, a lovely contrast with the pale blue dress that clung to her curves.
