“Be you that lass who was in the market? The one they was laughing at?”
“I am. What do you think about that?”
“Naught. My Gram said that she wagers she could help you.”
“Oh, does she now?” Jill knelt down to look him in the face. “And who is your Gram?”
“Just my Gram. She lives on our farm. She said I should find you, like, and tell you.”
“Ah, I see. And where is your farm?”
“Not far. She’s gone back with the wagon. Do you want to come back with me?”
“I do, and here, I’ve got a horse. You can ride it, too.”
The boy grinned to reveal missing front teeth. Jill supposed that he was too young even to know what kind of errand he was running. She told him to wait and hurried back to Rhodry, who was less than pleased at the thought of her going off alone.
“I don’t want to alarm old Gram,” Jill said. “Besides, usually this kind of woman won’t speak in front of a man. Let’s not put her off. She’s the only clue we’ve got so far.”
“Oh, well and good, then. But don’t drink whatever it is that she brews up for you, will you? The Lord of Hell only knows what it’ll do to you.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve a plan in mind.”
Jill saddled up her horse, lifted the boy up to sit behind the saddle, then mounted, following his direction to go to the north gate of the city. He was so entranced with getting to ride on a real warhorse that she had to keep reminding him to tell her the right road, but they finally found the farm, about three miles to the northeast. In the middle of fields of wheat and vegetables stood a sprawling compound behind a low earthen wall, the family house, the cow barn, the well, and the pigsty all jumbled up together among the dung heaps and the haystacks. When they rode in the gate, a pair of mangy yellow hounds ran up barking to greet them. Jill dismounted and set the boy down.
“Mam and Da are still out in the fields,” he said. “That’s why Gram said to bring you now.”
Gram herself came strolling out of the house. A stout, hard-muscled woman with gnarled hands, she was wearing a black headscarf and a brown dress, pulled up into her dirty kirtle to leave her ankles and muddy bare feet free. She gave Jill a look of honest sympathy and turned to the boy.
“Bucket of slops and greens by the hearth,” she announced. “Them chickens is hungry.”
When the boy ran into the house, she gestured at Jill to follow and led her down to the gate where he couldn’t overhear. Flies buzzed round them, and distant chickens cackled.
“Now what’s all this, lass? Gwedda’s a nasty sort with her tongue. Hah! Mincing round with her nose in the air over you, and here she’s buried two husbands and so eager to get another you’d swear she was a bitch in heat, you would, and at her age!”
“She was wrong, too. I’m not with child. I was trying to tell her, but all she did was natter on and on at me, and I couldn’t say much with my man right there.” Jill glanced round as if expecting Rhodry to pop up and spy on her. “It’s about him, you see. Here I gave up my family and everything when he asked me to go with him, and every town we ride to, he’s looking over the lasses. I can’t say a thing about it. What if he just left me? Oh, by the Goddess herself, it aches my heart.”
“Ah. Them handsome men, all face and no heart, truly.”
“So I’m finding out.” Jill did her best to sound bitter. “So I thought, well, maybe Aranrhodda could help me keep him faithful. You hear about things, charms and suchlike, to keep your man in your bed and nowhere else.”
“So you do. Now, how long are you going to be in Lughcarn? You can’t make up a powerful spell like this one in between baking your bread and cutting your dinner meat.”
“At least a few days. My man’s going to go up to the gwerbret’s dun and see if he can find a hire, but we’ve got money now, so he won’t be in any hurry.” She noticed the mention of money bring a smile to the old woman’s face. “He spends every copper the minute he gets it, but I sneaked a bit for myself.”
“Sensible lass, and if you’ll listen to an old woman, you’ll go on sneaking a coin here and there and laying it by, like, somewhere in your clothes where he won’t find it. Now, our Lady of the Cauldron can help you keep him, sure enough, but the day’s going to come when you won’t want to keep him, and then what are you going to do?” She fixed Jill with a stern look. “A woman with a bit put by can find herself a husband who’s got a cursed short memory for what she done before she met him. You remember that.”
“I will, good dame, and my thanks, but I can’t imagine ever not loving my wonderful Rhodry.”
The old woman rolled her eyes heavenward at the follies of young lasses, then considered the problem, idly tracing a line in the dust with her big toe.
“I’ll need a bit of his hair,” she said at last. “Just a bit will do.”
“I’ve got some. I was combing his hair last night, and I kept what was in the comb.” She reached into her brigga pocket and took out the strands of Rhodry’s hair, carefully wrapped in a scrap of cloth.
“Oho! You seem to know a bit about our Lady’s power.”
“Well, my Mam knew a Wise Woman near our house. And sometimes I heard them talking when I was just a little lass.”
Smiling, the old woman tucked the bit of hair into a fold of her kirtle.
“Now, tonight, when it’s good and dark, I’ll take this out to yonder copse. And I’ll bind it up around a charm that’ll bind him tight to you. But he’s a good-looking man, and we’ll do a bit more. I’ll make you up a pot of salve, and I’ll tell you how to mark him with it when he’s asleep. And then.” She held one forefinger straight in the air. “If he tries to roll around with some other lass, well, then.” She curled the forefinger slowly down. “He won’t get much fun out of it, and neither will the little slut.”
Jill gave the old woman a silver coin, then started riding back to town. She was idly hoping that the spell would do Rhodry no harm when she saw a trio of riders trotting across a cow pasture and heading for the farm. By shading her eyes with her hand, she could just make out the gwerbret’s daughters. There was no sign of either falconer or escort. Now isn’t this interesting? Jill thought, I wonder if old Gram’s going to do another bit of business today? She thought of going back on some pretext or another, then decided that it would be too obvious.
At the tavern, Jill found Rhodry waiting by the fire, where he was whittling a stick into nervous shreds with his silver dagger. The innkeep watched him with a scowl as if he were thinking he was lucky it wasn’t the furniture. Jill took Rhodry out to the stables on the excuse of helping with the horse.
“It all went well. I’m supposed to ride back tomorrow and pick up a love charm.”
“A love charm? Better than a dose of herbs, I suppose, but what are you going to do with that?”
“Naught, of course, but I had to gain her confidence, didn’t I? Here, if you start feeling sick or suchlike, tell me.”
“What? What have you done? Hired some daft old woman to put a spell on me?”
“She’s far from daft, but don’t worry about the spell. I just told her some tale about fearing you’d stop loving me.”
Rhodry shrugged the problem away. Jill decided that she’d best not tell him about the pot of salve.
On the morrow morning, Jill rode out the north gate and headed in the direction of the farm until she found a stand of trees where she could dismount and stand hidden. Sure enough, in a little while the three young ladies from the gwerbret’s palace rode by, followed by their usual escort. Jill rode after, taking a roundabout way through the various dirt roads and tracks that ran from farm to farm. Finally, she caught up with them again down by the riverbank. The escort had tethered their horses in the shade of a pair of big ash trees and were hunkering down to play dice; the falconer was talking earnestly with the girls, each of whom had a little merlin on her gloved and padded wrist. Jill trotted on by to the farm.
When she arr
ived, circumstances favored her. Gram was busy kneading a batch of bread, a process that couldn’t be stopped in the middle. Jill sat down on a battered wooden bench and wondered how long it would take the girls to get away from their escort.
“Now don’t worry, lass,” Gram said abruptly. “That charm’s a good one, if I do say so myself. Just as I was finishing it up, the moon, she rises, and the moonlight comes through the trees and falls right on it.”
“That’s wonderful. I just worry so much.”
“Course you do. Now, I’ll just make this into loaves, and we’ll let it rise while we talk things over.”
Once the loaves of bread were formed and draped with a damp cloth on a wooden board, the old woman went into another chamber. Jill could hear her rustling about; then she came back with a small clay pot stoppered with a bit of old rag and a small object wrapped in black cloth. She handed Jill the wrapped object, then sat down next to her.
“Now, don’t you ever unwrap that cloth. It’ll spoil the dweomer if you do. You carry that with you, and we’ll see if your pretty silver dagger has eyes for another lass again.” She set the pot on the table. “I’ll wager he’s a hard-drinking man, so you wait until he’s sound asleep and snoring from his ale, and then you put this on his back. I’ll show you the pattern to draw.”
With the pattern came a silent prayer: Aranrhodda, Aranrhodda, Aranrhodda, rica rica soro, alam bacyn alam, Aranrhodda rica. Since the old woman could tell her nothing about what this chant meant, Jill had trouble memorizing it. By the time she did, the morning was well on its way to noon, and the old woman hospitably offered her a bit of ale and cheese.
“If that man of yours isn’t going to wonder where you are, that is. Don’t want to make him turn nasty and beat you.”
“Oh, he’ll be looking for a hire all day. That’s why I knew I could get away.”
They settled down companionably to their lunch. It was easy to ask innocent questions and get the old woman to reminiscing about various times she’d used the lore.
“Now, here,” Jill said at last, “suppose I run into trouble somewhere else along the road. Do you think I’ll be able to find another Wise Woman?”
“Depends where you ride. But usually you can find one of us if you look hard enough.”
“Of course, you’d hardly know. It’s not like you could travel and meet places or suchlike.”
“True enough, but every now and then, you hear a bit of news.”
Jill was wondering how deeply she dared pry when they heard horses riding into the farmyard. The hounds leapt up and barked their way out the front door with Gram right behind them. When Jill hurried after, she saw the three lasses from the gwerbret’s dun dismounting while Gram kicked the dogs away.
“We got one for you,” the youngest-looking announced. “Here, Gram.”
The lass handed over something wrapped in a bit of cloth, oozing a few drops of blood.
“Now that’s kind of you. He looks like a good big raven.”
“He is. And I got my falcon back before he spoiled too many feathers, too.”
The oldest of the lasses suddenly yelped and pointed to Jill, standing in the doorway.
“Nothing to worry about,” Gram said. “Just a lass, for all she’s got that dagger and them men’s clothes.”
“I’d best get back to my man,” Jill said. “My thanks, Gram, for all your help.”
“You’re welcome, Jill. And don’t you let that man of yours know where you’ve been. I don’t want him beating you for it.”
When Jill mounted her horse, she was aware of the three noble ladies watching her wide-eyed in curiosity. Jill bowed to them from the saddle, then rode out, turning into the road and trotting fast for the river road. On the way back to town, she pitched the pot of salve into the river, but she kept the charm to show Rhodry and put his fears to rest.
When she got back to the tavern, they went straight up to their dusty wedge-shaped chamber and closed the shutters over the window. They sat down on the floor, away from the bedbugs in the straw mattress.
“Here.” Jill handed him the charm. “She says that if you unwrap it, you’ll spoil the dweomer, so you’d best do just that.”
Handling it as gingerly as a horse turd, Rhodry pulled the bit of cloth away to reveal a tiny stick, whittled into an unmistakable phallic shape and bound round with the strands of his hair.
“Oh, by the hells,” Rhodry snapped. “And what was this supposed to do to me?”
“Can’t you guess from the shape? You can just toss it into the fire downstairs.”
“I’ll do naught of the sort! It might have some strange effect on me.”
“Rhodry! I swear you believe it’s real.”
“Well, how do I know it isn’t real enough in its way?”
They compromised on burying the charm out behind the stables, where it was unlikely that anyone would ever dig it up again. Although Jill teased Rhodry for his concern, she wondered why she was so sure that the charm was useless—her usual instinct, she supposed. All her life, she’d been able to tell what dweomer was and what dweomer was not, just as she had always been able to see the Wildfolk. Rhodry tamped the earth over the charm with the heel of his riding boot and stamped on it hard for good measure.
“Now, kindly don’t go buying any more of these from her, will you? Did you learn anything worth knowing while you were there?”
“Nothing directly about Mallona. But the gwerbret’s daughters came riding up while I was there, and they seem to be up to their pretty elbows in this muck.”
“What? Now, this could be dangerous. Someone should tell his grace.”
“Not just yet, not until I’ve had a chance to worm what they know out of them. So remember, do hold your tongue about old Gram when you’re talking to the gwerbret.”
“Talking to the—here, I can’t face Tudvulc again! I’m not going up to the palace, and that’s that.”
Jill laid her hand on his arm and gave him the sweetest smile she could muster.
“Please, Rhodry? It’s so awfully important.”
“Oh, he’s so handsome!” Babryan said breathlessly. “I’d forgotten about Eldidd men! Those dark blue eyes!”
“He’s a rotten silver dagger, Baba,” Wbridda snapped. “You shouldn’t even talk that way about him.”
“I don’t care. He’s noble-born, after all, and I’ll bet his brother banished him for some silly reason. Don’t you think Rhodry’s handsome, Sevvi?”
“Well, sort of, but he frightens me. He’s so strange, somehow. And I wager he’s a harsh man in battle. I’ll wager he can be truly cruel.”
“Men are supposed to be that way,” Babryan said. “Don’t be silly.”
The girls were sitting at the fireside in their hall, where they’d fled as soon as they could make a decent exit from the dinner table and Lord Timryc. Sevinna had suspected the worst during the meal, when she’d seen Babryan staring at this exile of a silver dagger whom the gwerbret had pitied enough to seat at his table. Now the worst was being confirmed: Babryan threw her arms round her knees and stared moodily into the fire.
“I wish he didn’t already have a woman.”
“Well, he does,” Sevinna said. “And a woman that looks like she could beat you to a pulp if she wanted to, too.”
“How nasty!” Babryan stuck her tongue out at Sevinna, then returned to the moody stare. “Besides, I’d never want to break her heart or suchlike. She must have defied her father and ridden off with her Rhodry. Just like your Mam did, Sevvi.”
“Not at all! My father wasn’t any dishonored silver dagger.”
“My apologies, truly, I didn’t mean that. You’re so growly tonight, Sevvi. I’ll just wager you think he’s handsome, too.”
Sevinna crossed her arms over her chest and did her best to look dignified, but Babryan laughed at her.
“Oh, don’t be such cats!” Wbridda broke in. “Neither of you can have him, anyway. He might have been a gwerbret’s son once, but h
e isn’t anymore.”
This was true enough to make Babryan lay aside her mood and sit up, but she chewed on her lower lip as if she were thinking something over.
“Now, we saw Jill there at Gram’s, getting a charm. I’ll wager he’s unfaithful to her all the time.”
“Baba!” Sevinna said. “I’m not being catty, truly, I’m not, just worried. What are you thinking about?”
“Naught.” It was Babryan’s turn for the dignified hauteur. “What did you think I was thinking about?”
“Oh, you know!”
They were well into a fit of giggles when the door opened and Lady Caffa came in with Jill right behind her. Babryan blushed scarlet, then rose with the other girls and curtsied to her mother. Sevinna surreptitiously studied Jill. She seemed some years older than herself, and her obvious physical strength placed her as a dweller in some utterly different world.
“Now, darlings,” Caffa said, “your father’s offered poor Rhodry his shelter for a while, so Jill is going to be spending lots of time with us. I shall want you to be hospitable to our guest, and I’m sure we’ll have lots of lovely chats. You must have seen so many interesting things on the road, Jill.”
“I have, my lady. Riding with my Rhodry has been awfully exciting.”
“What a brave way to put it. I know it must have been terribly hard on you.”
Jill gave her a meek smile, as if agreeing, but Sevinna found the smile suspicious, as if she were a wolf pretending to be a lapdog.
Yet on the morrow, Jill settled so easily into the life of the woman’s hall that Sevinna wondered if she’d been wrong. Although the gwerbret gave these odd guests a chamber of their own, Jill turned up in a borrowed dress in the women’s quarters after breakfast, when Caffa held a kind of court. Her daughters, guests, and servingwomen sat round on cushions as she went over the accounts with the chamberlain, discussed menus with the head cook, and generally kept her fingers on the pulse of the life of the dun. During the session, Jill sat next to Sevinna and watched the proceedings narrow-eyed, as if she were memorizing everything she heard. In whispers, Sevinna pointed out this person or that to her and explained why they were there.
Days of Air and Darkness Page 11