Chapter 21
Betrayed
Trees creaked in the wind as the mists from the sea slowly smothered the Heolstor Forest. Moonlight streamed between the branches leaving oddly shaped shadows across the forest floor. At the base of a tree, one she’d visited several times already, Dove sat, an apple in hand, the large laurel wreath at her side, singing. Her high clear voice sang a tune that no one had ever heard. As was often true, she created words and melody as she waited for a unicorn.
The songs that she sang were her way of bolstering her spirits. Dove was scared— terrified really. A large, potentially deadly creature was supposed to be lured to its captivity at her hands. It might fail. If the unicorns rejected the Mæte, why would they accept her? She was just as feared and rejected by people as the Mæte— perhaps more so, considering the Mæte also rejected her. Bertha assured her she was human, but was she?
She heard the cracking of a nearby twig, and her voice faltered. What was it? It seemed as though she’d been out there for hours. Could Philip, Baldric, and Jakys see her from their perch in a nearby tree? She fingered the laurel wreath, its fragrance perfuming the air around her.
Later, Dove realized that she must have slept most of the night. Philip shook her awake near dawn and pushed her toward home, despite her protests. She was tired, cold, and dread filled her heart as the realization of what her slumber meant. They had failed. The unicorn had not come and laid his head in her lap. Furthermore, there could be only one reason the unicorn had not come. She wasn’t truly human. That thought nearly crushed her.
Philip, hearing her muttering about being right and no different from the Mæte, shook her shoulders a little roughly. “You’re being ridiculous. There are many reasons the unicorn might not have come. Maybe it was somewhere else, looking for food. They could have been sleeping, or the legend might be false.” At the look of disagreement, he added, “It’s just a legend, Dove!”
His words were no comfort. They’d tried to capture a unicorn and had failed. The Earl of Wynnewood would not have the desires of his heart, and the Princess of the Mæte would die of one of the few diseases that Bertha truly feared— leprosy. Philip would not have the pride of knowing he’d done something for his lordship that no one else had even attempted, and all of it was her fault.
“I wish Ellie had lived.” Her voice was a mere breath of a whisper.
“Well, so do I, but why do you wish it so much right now?”
Dove tried not to sound as melancholy as she felt. “She’s human. She could have done it. The unicorn might have come for her.”
“I can’t believe you’re giving up after one try.” Hearing her teeth chatter with cold, he sighed. “Perhaps we should wait for spring. You could freeze out there. At least we had a fire.”
“I was warm enough protected by the tree, but here the wind can get through my cloak at times.”
Her rattling teeth told him she exaggerated the truth. “I should have known better. They have warm furs and blankets in those caverns. There was no reason for you to be cold.”
“It kept me alert. If I was too warm—”
“Oh, yes, I see how alert you were. You slept through the cold. Cold steals your breath. You die!”
This startling remark caused Dove to giggle. As if the funniest thing she’d heard in weeks, Dove chortled and stifled guffaws, until Philip grabbed a fallen stick and whacked a tree trunk with it. Although she still found him amusing, the girl did try to control herself. “I’m sorry, Philip. It’s just so funny to hear you spouting superstitions like that. You’re usually so sensible.”
“Well, why do they tell people who are cold not to fall asleep? I’ve even heard Bertha say it.”
“Bertha says people don’t breathe deeply enough when they’re asleep, so it lets the cold freeze them. Breathing correctly keeps the brain working well, and that keeps them alert enough to try to stop the freezing.”
“Sounds like the same thing to me.”
She started to argue, but a new thought occurred to her. “Philip!”
“Hmm?” The boy was exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to curl on a pallet in his mother’s cottage and sleep for hours. Of course, Adam would try to play with him, but his mother would try to let him sleep as long as she could.
“Letty! She’s a girl— a normal one. She could come, sit, and the moment the laurel is over the unicorn’s head, I could walk her home.”
After a moment’s pause, Philip urged her homeward again, talking excitedly. “You’re right. Letty always wanted to be included in anything Angus did. She’d love a chance to do something that Angus couldn’t.”
“I’ll ask her before I go to sleep.”
He started to argue. Coming from Dove, Letty was less likely to agree. On the other hand, maybe if the girls worked it out together, Dove and Letty would become friends. That would be a good thing when Philip’s apprenticeship was up next year and he had to take work on the fishing boats or at Lord Morgan’s castle. “I think that’s a very good idea.”
All the way home and into Bertha’s cottage, Philip kept Dove talking about anything he could. He asked questions until he thought she’d run from him just to silence him, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to keep her alert and moving. Besides, he thought to himself, she does what she’s going to do, as Bertha put it. I hate it when that woman is right.
The scent of scorched lentils greeted Dove when she arrived home. The sight of Letty scrubbing a blackened pot with sand, the girl’s tears dropping with each jerk of her hands, nearly halted Dove’s plans to inveigle her to help capture a unicorn. Instead, she decided to use it to her advantage. “Just leave that on the hearth with water in it. I’ll take it to the shore later. The salt in the water helps scrub it out.”
“I can’t. Bertha said—”
“Well, then I’ll do it now.” She didn’t want to. Dove was tired, cold, and needed a long rest in bed, but she wanted Letty to feel as if in her debt.
“Oh, no! You were gone all night. I thought maybe you got lost, but when I went to ask Bertha—” Letty stared at Dove curiously. “Why are you wearing Philip’s cloak?”
Dove’s shoulders slumped. She’d forgotten already. “Mine… disintegrated you could say.” Her mouth twisted in a smirk as she spoke. Letty was so gullible, the girl would probably believe it at face value.
“Oh.”
“Look, you’ll never get that clean, and I can’t go now. I’m cold and tired, and I just want to take a long nap— wait. Did you say you went to ask Bertha about me?”
It was Letty’s turn to droop her shoulders. “Yes, she was very angry.”
“I’m not surprised. Rule number two. Never, ever, ever interrupt Bertha when she’s with a laboring woman unless another laboring woman or her baby will die.”
“What is rule number one?”
Laughing, Dove pointed to the pot in Letty’s hand. “Don’t ever scorch the lentils.”
She snatched another cloak from its peg on the wall and slipped out the door to put on her own. The hood fitted her better, being attached to the cloak rather than separate like Philip’s. The deep cowls around her neck gave her extra protection from the sight of others while allowing her to see very well. Once she knew she was properly covered, Dove went inside, hung the cloak and hood on the peg, and pointed to it.
“If you go into the village, will you take that to Philip?”
“Of course!” The eagerness in Letty’s voice wasn’t lost on Dove. The girl wanted to please Philip, and that information was exactly what she needed to get Letty to help them.
“I’ll do the pan. If Bertha scolds, I’ll probably wake up, and I’ll take the blame. If I don’t wake up, tell her I threatened you if you touched it.”
“But you didn’t. I couldn’t lie. If she found out—”
With a giggle that she couldn’t repress, Dove shook her gloved fist. “If you go near that pot again, I’ll throw it at you!”
Both girls stifled snickers
as Dove crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over her. “Don’t forget to air out Bertha’s bed. She’ll know if you didn’t.”
“But she didn’t sleep in it!”
“The bed must be aired,” Dove insisted. A new seriousness, almost stern, entered her tone. “Bertha insists that disease grows in unaired beds.”
She waited. It took every ounce of her strength not to collapse into exhausted slumber, but Dove knew people. She’d watched them for years and Letty was one of the ones who would be most likely to say yes if caught off guard. Shaking out the bedding took several minutes. With the door open, Dove was glad to be under the thick warm woolen blankets that covered her.
At last, Letty closed the door, and put on her own cloak and gloves. She glanced toward Dove, who seemed to be fast asleep, and then at the fire. Just as she was certain everything would be fine long enough for her to take a little walk into the village, Dove spoke. “Oh, Philip and I were wondering if you wanted to help us do something for Lord Morgan— a surprise.”
“Me? Help you?” The fact that Letty was audibly and visibly stunned would work in their favor.
“Yes. It’s an enormous secret, though. You couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Is it wrong? Would my fæder be angry?”
Dove sat up with exaggerated slowness, forcing herself to sound even more tired than she was. “I would think that any fæder would be pleased to know his daughter helped the Earl of Wynnewood have the one thing he’s always wanted and could never get himself.”
“What is it?” Now, Letty sounded skeptical.
“I don’t know if I should tell you,” Dove hedged. “I’m not sure I can trust you.” She paused for effect. “I know; tell Philip that I said if he thinks we can trust you, for him to tell you.”
“Why not ask Angus or one of the other boys? I don’t think Philip would want a girl…”
It was working. “We thought you were the perfect person, but if you’d rather not, we’ll find someone else. Maybe Minerva at the castle will help. She seems to like Philip.”
With all the nonchalance she could muster, Dove pulled the blankets back over her shoulder, and rolled over to face the wall, her back to Letty. Just as she heard the girl start to speak, she yawned— loudly. Ignoring everything Letty said, she muttered. “Just talk to Philip. Either he trusts you or he doesn’t. If you want to help us, you’ll have to get him to trust you.”
The door closed quietly behind Letty, and Dove smiled. The last thought that crossed her mind before she drifted into a deep sleep was, “That was almost impossibly simple.”
Chapter 22
Swallowed Pride
Winter’s harsh weather pounded Wynnewood in those days, but to Letty Wood, it felt like spring. She didn’t notice the chilled air blowing in from the sea or the ominous storm clouds rolling in over the Wyrm Forest. Even the mists, which usually terrified her, hardly attracted her notice. Instead, she heard the song of the mistle thrush, and instead of heeding its storm warnings, smiled as if it heralded the arrival of the primroses.
It seemed as though the village had grown closer to Bertha’s lonely cottage; the trip took hardly any time at all. Letty deliberately walked past the Fletcher’s cottage to see if she could hear anything exciting, but alas, the door was closed, Tom was nowhere to be seen, and not even the animals in the shed seemed to dare to make a peep. Undaunted, she continued her way until she reached Philip’s cottage.
She rapped four times before a bleary-eyed Philip, scowling, cracked the door and growled, “What do you want?”
“Dove asked me to bring you the cloak you gave her. She said hers disintegrated.”
“Was incinerated is more like it,” he corrected gruffly. Seeing the effect his irritability was creating, he added, “Thanks.”
“She said you have a secret— a surprise for Lord Morgan.”
His eyes widened and he opened the door. “Come in. We don’t want everyone to hear about it.”
Letty glanced around Philip’s cottage. It was smaller than most in the village, but it was also neater. Magge Ward was known for being an excellent housekeeper. Whenever the work got ahead of her, Alice Brewer would hire Magge to give the tavern a thorough cleaning. To Alice, most of it was excessive, but it did mean that she had less to do for a very long time, so the money was well-spent, in her opinion.
“What did Dove tell you?”
To be fair, Letty didn’t mean to misquote Dove. In her eagerness to learn the secret and find a way to help and impress Philip and his odd little friend, as well as to outshine her brother, she was careless in relaying Dove’s message. “Dove said you would tell me about it.”
“Why didn’t she tell you?”
“She seemed tired.” Letty struggled to remember exactly what Dove had said. “She said, ‘if you want to help us, you’ll have to—‘”
“Oh, all right. You promise you won’t tell anyone.” He peered into Letty’s clear green eyes as if to assure himself of her trustworthiness.
“Of course not! Even if I can’t do it, I wouldn’t tell. I’m not a tattler!”
Philip crossed his arms and stared at her. “Oh, really?”
“Really!” Letty had the grace to blush. “I was just a child, Philip! I know better now. People do grow up, you know.”
“Angus got the whipping of his life for what you thought you saw,” Philip reminded her.
“I know, but he’d been teasing me all morning. He wouldn’t let me play, so when I saw…” She sighed. “I just wanted to be included sometimes.
“And you thought Angus would be more likely to do it after you got him in trouble?” Philip couldn’t resist the temptation to make Letty squirm. It had been bad enough that they’d gotten in trouble at all, but it particularly stung that it was for something they hadn’t even done.
“I said I was sorry. Are you going to tell me or not? If not, I’m going to go home. I didn’t know you were one to hold a grudge, Philip Ward. And my modor always says you are such a perfect boy— humph.”
“I’ll tell you.”
It worked. Letty paused, her hand on the latch of the door. “Are you sure you can trust me? I might tell the world. I’m such a tattler.”
He’d forgotten. After finally ridding themselves of Letty and Agnes, the boys had enjoyed a year or two of fun without the interference and irritation of little sisters marring it. Dove wasn’t like the village girls. She didn’t play the petty games that some of them did. If she was mad, she said so. If she didn’t like what you did, she left or hashed it out with you. Girls, or the ones like Letty anyway, liked to pout and sulk. They wanted you to be sorry for hurting their feelings. He’d forgotten that delicate balance.
“Now look who is holding a grudge,” he began. Instantly, he knew he’d taken the wrong tactic. Teasing Letty while she was hurt and angry was only going to make things worse. “I’d say we’re even. Both of us are older and know better. So, if you want to help us with Lord Morgan’s surprise, sit down, and I’ll tell you about it.”
The storm that the mistle thrush predicted arrived hours later. All afternoon, the rain poured in great sheets, drenching everything not covered by a sound roof. Into the night and the early morning, a steady drizzle continued, even after the worst of the storm had passed. It made for a truly miserable twenty-four hours.
His father spent the morning telling tales of their adventures at sea, laughing at the odd things they saw and some of the things people ate in different places. At last, the sun seemed to drive the clouds away, leaving muddy roads, and a boggy forest. As he prepared to go tell Dove that they couldn’t expect Letty to sit on cold and wet earth, his mother hurried into the house, Adam attached to one hip as usual. “Philip! It’s a boy. Una has given birth to a boy.”
His heart sank. He’d held a secret hope that the baby would be a girl, and it would be a reminder to Tom of the obligations of a master. Philip wanted to learn the trade, but even more, he didn’t want to admit that after four years
with Tom, he’d learned nothing. No matter what anyone thought, either he or Tom would be seen as wanting.
“Did they name him?”
“That’s the best part! Una said she wanted to name him Adam because he was the first man.”
“That’s a nice idea.” Philip couldn’t understand what was so exiting about that.
“That’s not all. Tom objected. He said they didn’t have an Adam in the family and he was naming his son Hugo after his fæder.” Magge Ward caught her breath and put Adam on the floor, stretching her muscles as she removed her cloak. “Then Una, loud enough to wake anything but her baby— that child must sleep like the dead— said, ‘Philip has spent the past two months telling me the stories he’s learned from the Bible and the past three years doing half my work. I’m naming the boy after the first man in the Bible. He’s the first little man in our house. I’d name him Cain, but that one killed his brother, and if I have another baby boy, I’d worry that he’d be killed too.’”
“Tom stood for that?” Philip’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t like Una to cross Tom’s wishes.
“Well, at first he was mad and asked why they should not name the boy Philip.”
It was a fair question. He hadn’t thought of it himself, but now that he heard it, Philip wondered too. “What did she say?”
“She said that two Philips in the house would be too confusing, and that she didn’t know what kind of man the Philip in the Bible is.”
“I’m just glad to hear her so taken with the Bible. I never really knew if she was listening or not.”
Magge Ward stared curiously at her son. “I am surprised that it matters to you so much. Why should it matter where the name comes from?”
“It’s not about the name, Modor, it’s that Una is listening to the Bible, remembering it, and cares what it says. I think that should be important to every Christian.”
“Now you sound like a minister, Philip. I’m not in the mood to debate your scriptures.” Magge ladled soup into a bowl and fed Adam as Philip finished lacing his boot.
The Annals of Wynnewood Complete Series Page 36