Page 17

A Verdant Power

Maiwenn did indeed teach Issylte to fish.

She showed her how to unearth the fat, wriggling worms that the sea trout, pike, and perch in the lake of Lough Gill loved best. The first day at the lake, the very first time she had ever fished in her entire life, Issylte caught two sea trout, giggling in delight as the fish squirmed at the end of the stick which she held tightly underneath the oak canopy at the side of the shining lake.

Maiwenn, who had caught four perch, put two of the fish in a small basket, to which she added some berries, nuts, and a few jars of her herbal tinctures.

The fairy witch placed the basket under a tree at the edge of the Hazelwood Forest, explaining to Issylte, “I always leave a gift for the Little Folk . I consider it an offering to the Goddess, since they are Her people.”

Taking her small dagger, she showed Issylte the technique of filleting the fish that they had caught. Tossing the entrails and bones of the cut fish back into the water, Maiwenn washed her knife in the lake, wrapped the fresh fillets in a clean cloth, and placed it all in a large basket.

“Come, dear, let’s return to the cottage. I’ll show you how to bake the fish with rosemary, thyme, and sage. We’ll harvest a few early carrots and turnips, and an onion. It will be a feast!”

Later that afternoon, seated at the wooden table in the cozy cottage, the old woman and the peasant princess savored the delicate flavor of the herbed trout and steaming vegetables.

Once they finished their dinner, Maiwenn served a delicious dessert, which she called tarte aux mirabelles, a fruit pie made from the wild sweet plums that were abundant in the forest during spring and summer.

Each day, Maiwenn taught Issylte about herbs—those she cultivated in the garden, for seasoning the savory meals they prepared, but also the wild herbs which they collected in the forest, which were needed for the tinctures, potions, ointments, and salves that they bartered in the village.

Issylte learned which herbs would soothe the cramps she suffered each month when her courses came; she learned which would help promote fertility or prevent a babe from being conceived.

Maiwenn taught her how to harvest fresh flowers and prepare essential oils, to which they would add herbs for healing wounds, or to soothe aching joints and muscles.

One day, Maiwenn led Issylte along the stream to a sheltered grove where an abundance of beautiful purple and white wildflowers grew amidst ivy-entwined evergreen shrubs and yew trees.

The fairy witch motioned for Issylte to kneel at her side among the flowers.

Her luminous brown eyes twinkled in the filtered sunlight.

“Every tree, plant, flower and herb has an essence. A spirit. A life force.” She gestured to the verdant forest all around.

Issylte raised her eyes to the lush canopy of trees overhead, the blue sky peeking through the fluffy clouds. She inhaled deeply, the green notes of pine mingling with the rich scent of earth and the tangy fragrance of blossoms in the early summer breeze.

“The essence of the forest can be beneficial. Benevolent. Essential for healing.” She picked up a sprig of red clover and handed it to Issylte with a knowing smile. “Yet others are harmful and deadly.” Maiwenn gestured to the alluring deep purple flowers before them.

Issylte’s breath caught in wonder. She sensed an aura. A tingle in her veins.

Maiwenn’s chestnut eyes bore deeply into hers. “Have you ever felt the thrum of the forest in your veins?”

Issylte nodded, her eyes wide with discovery and delight. She held Maiwenn’s gaze, nearly breathless with anticipation.

“That, églantine, is power .” Maiwenn’s eyes were brown, like the nourishing earth of the Hazelwood Forest.

“You, my dear princess, are a forest fairy . Like me.”

With a quick intake of breath, Issylte placed her hands over her mouth in wonder.

“The Goddess has blessed us both with a divine gift. The ability to sense the essence of a plant. To wield its power. The warm, soothing aura of a beneficial herb. The icy sting of a poison.” Maiwenn gestured to the field of flowers. “Use your gift. Tell me which flowers are harmful.”

Issylte stood, straightening her brown homespun frock. She stepped cautiously among the flowers. A pervasive sense of dread and doom engulfed her as she neared the deep purple blossoms. She turned to Maiwenn. “These flowers are poisonous. I can sense death.”

Maiwenn nodded proudly, her eyes glowing in the dappled sunlight.

“Wolfsbane. Deadly poison.” She wobbled to her feet, rubbing her hip with a gnarled hand, and crept towards Issylte.

“Wolfsbane slows—then stops—a beating heart.” She took hold of Issylte’s hand and led her to the deep pink flowers growing nearby. “And these?”

Issylte sensed the sting of danger, tempered with a wave of hope.

“These…can be fatal in large doses. But beneficial in small amounts.” She reached out with her gift, probing the nuances of the aura surrounding the flowers.

“This plant affects the heart also. Is it used to prevent death from wolfsbane?”

Maiwenn’s wrinkled cheeks puckered in a grin of delight. “Yes. This deep pink flower is foxglove. It can accelerate and strengthen the heart. If someone has been poisoned with wolfsbane, it can prevent death.”

The fairy witch pointed to the white flowers. “What about those?”

There were two very similar types of blossoms. Both very pretty, like delicate lace, but one flower had a repulsive odor and purple splotches on the stems. An icy cold permeated her veins, warning of danger.

“This one is deadly. What is it?”

“Irish hemlock. Very deadly indeed. And the other?”

Issylte sensed a wave of peace and calm. “It is harmless. Am I right?”

“Yes. Cow parsley. Well done, églantine. Come, I will teach you so much more.”

As the weeks passed, Maiwenn taught Issylte which herbs—such as basil, nettle, red clover, and burdock root—cleansed toxins from the blood.

The young forest fairy learned to distinguish between the lethal cherry laurel and the beneficial bay laurel, between toxic lily of the valley and edible violets.

That rhubarb stalks yielded a delicious fruit, yet consumption of the leaves was often fatal.

Issylte developed her newfound power, learning to draw upon the curative essence of the Hazelwood Forest with the verdant magic which flowed in her veins. Little by little, under Maiwenn’s loving tutelage, the young forest fairy discovered her divine gift.

And Maiwenn rediscovered her own.

****

Every Saturday, they ventured into the village of Sligeach, uniquely placed on a tidal bay in the estuary of the river which flowed from the lake, Lough Gill, to the sea.

Maiwenn taught Issylte how to dig clams when the tide was low, for the recessed water revealed an enormous mud flat, abundant in shellfish.

The fairy witch pointed to the small holes which indicated where the clams were hidden, and Issylte dug into the thick, sandy mud with her long fingers, being careful not to slice them open on the sharp shells of the mollusks.

They harvested oysters, mussels, clams, and cockles.

They caught crabs and crayfish whose tender, sweet meat Issylte found delicious, especially when flavored with butter that Maiwenn churned with Florette’s milk.

On each trip into the village, the two women coordinated their shellfish harvest with the tides, sometimes collecting their seafood on the way in, and sometimes stopping to dig clams on the return home.

Maiwenn taught Issylte that, by placing the bucket of seafood in the cool water of the fast-flowing steam near the cottage, the shellfish stayed fresh for two or three days.

They feasted frequently on the delectable fruits de mer.

Each week, Maiwenn brought baskets of herbal remedies into town, bartering her wares for flour and honey, grain for the hens, fabric for Issylte’s frocks, a pair of boots or gloves—whatever supplies were needed.

She introduced Issylte as her sister’s granddaughter églantine, the young widow from Bretagne , presenting the princess to the local shopkeepers and villagers, who soon welcomed her with a friendly smile.

Maiwenn helped the young forest fairy learn to wield her magic, bringing her protégée to various homes in the village, where Issylte created elixirs to heal the sick, assisted with the difficult delivery of a baby, and helped young mothers produce more milk with fenugreek tea.

She learned about the healing power of raw honey, how to prepare poultices which could withdraw toxins from a festered wound, and how sometimes it was necessary to administer a sleeping draught in order to cut out decayed flesh or remove a gangrenous limb.

As the months passed, Issylte learned to wield the power of the forest and heal with the magic of her touch. Her kind smile, gentle demeanor, and ever-increasing skill with the herbal remedies she administered gained Issylte respect among the local villagers, her Tatie always at her side.

One evening, an urgent knock interrupted their light supper. Maiwenn opened the cottage door to find a frantic young man in dire need of a healer.

“It’s my daughter,” he wailed, wringing his hands in distress. “She’s very sick. Please help us.”

As Maiwenn donned her cloak, Issylte grabbed the basket of herbal medicines.

The two healers hurried to keep up with the young man as he raced through the forest, arriving at a small wooden house with a thatched roof.

At a nearby pond, several goats were grazing peacefully under the golden setting sun.

The villager flung open the front door and burst into the room. As she and Maiwenn entered, Issylte spotted a young girl, five or six years old, curled up on a cot. She was clutching her stomach, moaning, writhing in pain.