“Please, you must help. If we don’t get her the weedroot soon, my baby will die,” pleaded the mother.
Ursula examined the child and found the marks of a sand viper on her left leg, as the mother had indicated.
“It appears you were correct in your assessment. The trouble is I don’t have any weedroot,” said the wise woman.
“What of the Hedgewitch or her sister the Marsh Wizard?” asked the woman.
“No one has any since the drought dried up the swamp. Our only hope is the troll Muzhichik who dwells on the Bale Wood,” answered Ursala.
“Bale Wood? That’s located in Lake Remorse. No one can go there,” moaned the mother.
“For the sake of the child, I’ll go. Now come with me to the Hedgewitch. She’ll tend the child until I return,” said the wise woman.
Ursula made her way into the scrub lands where Muzhichik lived.
“I hope the old codger is in a good mood,” muttered the woman as she made her way to the water’s edge.
“Ho, water rider, may I approach the Bale?” asked the wise woman.
“What is it you seek by disturbing my peace?” came the troll’s reply.
“To save the life of a child,” said Ursala.
“Why seek me? You and your witch woman friend could handle it?” said Muzhichik.
“Sand viper,” is all she said.
Muzhichik’s face drew taut. “I will bring the root,” said the troll.
Muzhichik grabbed a small pouch lying near the Bale’s base, then hopped into the boat. In no time, he was across the pond and thrusting the pouch into Ursala’s hands.
“No time for pleasantries, save the child,” the troll said.
The wise woman hurried back to Franny’s, where the Marsh Wizard made a plaster from the root to draw out the venom.
“Give this tonic to the child. It will keep her fever down,” said Fern.
“I will make a pilgrimage to the Bale once she is better to thank the troll,” the mother said.
“He likes apple pie,” said the wise woman.
“Then he will have ten,” the mother said.
Be sure to take your daughter so he can see for himself that she has recovered,” Franny said.
The mother gave Ursula a panicked look as if to say, “He won’t hurt her, will he?”
Ursula smiled and said, “Muzhichik is an old softie.”
A week later, Ursula received a large berry pie.
“How did you know?” the wise woman asked.
“The old softie told me,” said the mother with a wry smile.
Folksburywoods 
Leave a comment