Mortal End: A Simmering Pit of Jiggery Pokery

Chapter Five

Whilst the dwellers of Mortal End were up to their jutting necks in smoke and vapours, discussing the probability of storm damage versus arson versus auto ignition, as the cause of last night's fire, Verrye Brutall a lowly but absurdly handsome woodcutter was busily digging a hole in his back yard.

It was a very deep hole - at least six foot - and it was about as long as the body of his second wife, who seemed to have come to an unnatural end, only days before.

The hole was being scooped out of muddy fertile soil, running in a north-southerly direction.  The chasm was at the far end of his land, beside a stone wall that he had built as a visible sign of his small holdings perimeter.  Verrye Brutall needed all the help he could get in maintaining his boundaries.

Adjacent to this quarry, if inspected closely, one would be able to make out the outline of a very similar shaped cavity, one in which his first wife and mother of his two small children, would have fitted like a glove, or indeed, a cadaver.  Sadly, she was unable to experience the couture aspects of the mausoleum, he had made her to measure. Well, not in any animated way having come to an untimely death four summers earlier.

Verrye Brutall was used to hard manual labour, as his broad shoulders could verify.  The blisters and calluses on his large hands were also testament to his daily labours.

But a hard life hadn't always been the way for this young man.

However, right now, with his mind set firmly on his chores, Verrye concentrated heavily on shifting soil.  Within twenty minutes or so, he had created an organic smelling pyramid of sticky earth, to the side of the long home that was rapidly developing.

Unafraid of being interrupted, Verrye was enjoying his work, whistling tunes as his spade sliced repeatedly through the cake of earth.  It wasn't every day a man could let his wife rest soundly, without getting under her feet.

Rays were slowly rising from the horizon and the heat of the day rested seductively upon his sinewy back, bringing with them a strangely astringent smell of sweet sourness. 

The new trench was soon complete and awaiting it's charge.  Leaning his heavy tool against the wall, Verrye turned around and made toward his refuge.

Stomping his booted feet at the door to shake off all the mud, Verrye entered his home with pride.  He had first moved out here years ago when he had decided to settle down with Merit, a parochial cobblers daughter. 

The place then, was nothing like it was now.  Verrye had created a veritable palace out of the shack they had first shacked up in.  All the furniture had been fashioned and constructed by Verrye from the hard wood trees round about; the tables, chairs, beds, doors, window frames and shutters - even the oak floorboards.  Verrye definitely had a way with his large dextrous hands.

Satisfied that he was mud-free, Verrye purposefully made his way across the shiny wooden floor, which he polished religiously, through the plush living room and on to the kitchen.  His destination was the larder, or cool room as it was known here in Cut-n-Thrust

Verrye didn't like it when things went off.

© 2003 Toula Mavridou-Messer All rights reserved. ***Mortal End, Too is the second novel in the Mortal End series. There is an excerpt available on Wattpad to give you a taste of the storyline. I will post chapters regularly, but there are as yet unknown chapters, so this may take a while. You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter (Princess Toula), or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my Amazon author page Author.to/ToulaMavridouMesser. Your support is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading! Toula Xx