A tiresome walk along the Royal North Road, over familiar hills and rocky terrain, took her to Moytura hours later. She recalled that the city had a message board both at the north and south entrances. Here people posted messages of positions wanted, missing children, and lost pets, among other concerns. Many people crowded around the board, forcing her to continually move from one side to another and stand on her tiptoe to read the messages. She ignored her growling stomach as her gaze covered the entire board to see if anyone needed a tutor for their child. Tempted to cry with disappointment when she saw no such signs posted, she swallowed hard and walked on.
Near faint with hunger, she headed for the Snow Leopard, anxious for a filling breakfast and a place to rest. She trod the hot cobblestone streets, past vendors and fancy shops. A few minutes later, she opened the door to the inn, giving herself time for her eyes to adjust to its dimness after the bright sunshine. Since it was mid-morning, only a few patrons sat at tables, talking quietly among themselves.
A middle-aged man came forward to greet her. “Good morning, madam. I’m Cedric, owner of the Snow Leopard. Allow me to lead you to a table, and a waitress will serve you shortly.”
Sitting down, she asked him on the spur of the moment, “Since so many people frequent your inn, have you heard of anyone who needs a tutor for their children?”
Cedric frowned. “Not recently, sorry to say. Did you check the message board at the entrance to the city?”
Setting her bag on an empty chair, she explained about checking the board.
“I’ll ask around,” he said as the waitress approached the table. “Definitely will let you know.”
After a filling breakfast of creamy oatmeal and barley bread with earthberry jam, she drained her cup of spiosra—spicy—tea. Ah, that tasted good, and she felt so much better. Now, without hunger to hinder her, she could think better about gaining employment, else she would soon deplete all of her money. Oh, yes, she still had her own coins, plus the money Colin had given her, but that wouldn’t last forever.
Seeing the owner across the room, she left a copper on the table and retrieved her bag, then headed his way. He stood behind the bar, polishing glasses. “Cedric, if it’s no trouble, would you please fetch me paper, pen, and ink. It occurs to me I might place my own sign on the message board.
“Yes, of course.” He returned a few minutes later with the requested materials, along with a tack.
“Thank you.” After writing her own message, she left the inn and retraced her steps to the board. She tacked the sign, and at the same time, checked to see if any apartments were available. Seeing none, she walked on, thinking of Colin, wondering if the Goddess would grant her another miracle and send him back into her life. Oh, let it be so.
* * *
Several evenings later, Alana ate her dinner at the inn, discouraged at not finding employment or an inexpensive apartment. She had checked from one end of the city to another, finding vacancies only at the expensive apartments in the finer parts of the city. She sighed as she cut into her slice of ham, knowing this inn was far too costly in which to stay, night after night. Her copper coins were fast disappearing.
She looked up as Cedric approached her table. “Madam, I may have good news for you, depending on how events play out. I recently heard of a young man, a widower, who needs a tutor for his young daughter. I can give you his direction, if you like.”
“Oh, yes, please.” Relief washed over her, coupled with trepidation. She would need to go for an interview, a chancy situation, and that didn’t guarantee her employment. But of course, that’s the way it was with any position.
Handing her the piece of paper, he explained how she would find the house, not far beyond Granno’s Way.
“Cedric, thank you so much. I pray that this will work out for me.”
He winked. “A pretty girl such as you shouldn’t have any trouble finding employment.”
She laughed, so happy to hear a compliment after suffering with an ugly face for so long. “Oh, one thing I wanted to ask you.” She gave a slight nod toward a young couple who sat at a far corner of the room. “I see this man and woman most every night, just drinking but eating nothing. And I never see them during the day.”
Cedric bent over and spoke in low tones. “That’s Fianna and Gaderian Wade. They’re vampires,” he said matter-of-factly. “She used to work here as a fortune teller before she married him.”
“Goodness! I didn’t know vampires still existed in Avador.”
“Many vampires in Avador, but mainly in Moyura, now that everyone knows they don’t harm mortals. But bandregas, ah, that was another matter. Such a danger to the kingdom, killing mortals, but it seems that they have disappeared, or at any rate, no one sees them anymore.” He frowned. “Not sure how or why, but the bandregas—demons—are all gone.”
She shivered. “Well, thank the Goddess for that. And thank you, Cedric, for the information,” she said, waving the paper. “I’ll see about this tomorrow.” After he walked off, she thought further about the demons. What if they still existed in Avador, despite his assurance that they had disappeared? How would she know one when she saw him? She vowed never go outside by herself after dark.
* * *
The next morning after breakfast, Alana dressed carefully for her interview with the widower. Thankful she’d bought the light blue linen dress, she lifted it from the wall peg and set it on the bed to smooth out its wrinkles. Admiring the lace on the collar and cuffs, she realized she had never before owned such a lovely frock. She combed her hair and gave herself one last look in the mirror. She left her room and locked the door, pocketing the key.
As she headed for the widower’s residence, she noted the houses becoming finer the farther west she walked, mansions of three stories with carefully-tended lawns. The streets were wider here, with splendid oaks on both sides. Children played on spacious yards, swinging and bouncing balls. Elegantly-clad horsemen on elegant horses cantered past, the very image of wealth.
Finally reaching the address Cedric had given her, she approached the mansion along a wide stone sidewalk, lined with azalea bushes on both sides, and knocked on the door. A female servant dressed in black answered the door. “Madam?”
Alana smiled. “I”m here to see Malcolm Forgaill. I understand he is seeking a tutor for his young daughter.”
“Oh, yes, come in. And your name, madam?”
“Alana Cullain.”
“Very good.” She led her past the marble entrance, passing rooms that looked grand with fine furniture, rooms she could take in with only a glance.
They reached a room at the far end of the house, the study, Alana assumed, where the servant knocked.
“Come in.”
Alana entered the grandest room she had ever seen, a book-lined study with green velvet draperies and oaken furniture.
A young man stepped forward; with light blond hair and medium build, he looked to be Colin’s age.
“Madam.” He greeted her with his hand on her right shoulder in the traditional Avadoran greeting. She responded likewise, catching a spark of interest in his eye, or was that only her imagination?
He held out a chair for her next to his desk. “Please sit down, madam.” He walked around to the other side of the desk and sat, getting right to the point. “Have you had experience in tutoring children?”
“Sir, I used to tutor children in reading and arithmetic, near my village.”
“Your village?”
“Cairn, sir, south of here.”
“But you have not done any actual tutoring in other subjects, such as spelling and geography?”
“No, sir.” Despair churned inside her. He would not hire her. Suddenly, the room seemed stifling hot, and she fought the urge to dab a handkerchief across her face.
“Then let me explain what your duties would be, if, indeed, I hire you.” He held up a hand. “Mind, I haven’t said I would hire you. My daughter is seven years old. Her mother died at her
birth, so she has never known a mother. She needs a feminine influence, someone to not only teach her but guide her, enabling her to become a well-bred lady. As it is, she runs around like a balach. I want her to realize she’s a girl, not a boy. Of course, I’d want you to teach her subjects of learning, such as reading and arithmetic. You would serve more as a governess than a tutor. Do you think you could manage all of that, madam?”
She gave the only possible answer. “Sir, I would certainly try my best.”
He nodded. “Very well, then. I shall employ you on a trial basis, say, for one moonphase. You will live here, of course, and have your own room. I would expect you to dine with my father and me. By the way, my father is away on business, but you will meet him later. You will be paid one silver a moonphase.” He gave her a close look. “Would you accept the position according to these terms?”
Would she ever! “Yes, sir. And may I say, sir, your terms are quite generous.”
“Well, let’s see how everything works out. My daughter is staying with a relative now, but you’ll meet her soon enough.” He sighed—or did she only imagine it? She wondered if she had taken on too much.
“Where are you staying now?”
“At the Snow Leopard, sir. I’ve been looking for an apartment….” Her voice trailed off as she realized no further talk was necessary.
“Do you need any help in transferring your things here?”
“No, sir, I have but little to carry.” All of her possessions in one bag!
“Fine. Then I should like to see you two days after Sacred Day. And that reminds me. You will have Sacred Day and the day after as free days every nine-day.” He stood to signal that the interview was over.
She rose, too. “Thank you sir. I’m looking forward to meeting your daughter.”
He sighed, and this time she knew she hadn’t imagined it. “Well, we’ll see how everything works out.”
Alana left Malcolm Forgaill’s house, feeling far happier than she had only an hour earlier. Realizing the position carried much responsibility, she hoped she would prove capable of handling it. But she would do her best, she vowed, for her very livelihood depended on a capable performance.
She slowed her steps as she headed back to the inn. Unable to drive Colin from her mind, she knew she would never see him again. Ah, if she could see him just one more time, talk to him, touch him. Tears filled her eyes, and she berated herself for her weakness. She should be happy; she had a position now, employment and a room in a gentleman’s mansion. This is no time for tears.
Thinking about Colin caused too much heartache, and she deliberately switched her thoughts to Morag Delaney. She wondered what had happened to the witch.
* * *
Queen Keriam retained the efficient court system established by her father, in which various cities and villages served as centers for trying cases, not only civil and criminal, but on the rare instances of practicing black magic. The village of Cairn lay closest to the court in Sligo, and there Morag Delaney was taken to be tried by druids for using black magic. Enough testifiers, including Maude Mulligan, provided damning evidence against her. After a short trial, the druids found her guilty of the charge.
As a lesson to the people of Avador and to discourage any further practice of the dark arts, the druids took Morag by carriage to Moytura for a public hanging.
On the day of her scheduled execution, thousands of people flocked to the capital. The crowds gathered at the site of execution at the Plain of Sorrows, outside the city. Mothers brought their children, holding them high to watch the hanging. Vendors mingled among the mobs, hawking meat pies, candies, and other snacks. Excited voices swelled among the people as they pushed and shoved to get the best view. Why, they hadn’t seen such a spectacle in ages.
Rebellious to the end, Morag struggled among her handlers, but a black hood over her head kept her silent. With a noose around her neck, they hanged her from a tall oak. The body was left there for three days, then taken down and buried in an unmarked grave.
And black magic disappeared from Avador for years to come.
Chapter Fourteen
In the days leading up to his handfasting ceremony, when Donella Furneth would become his wife, Colin kept busier than he’d ever thought possible. He needed to drive Alana from his mind, yet she haunted his thoughts, night and day. He saw her smile, heard her gentle, soothing voice, recalled her every gesture, and how she’d cared for him during his feverish illness.
But images of her would gain him nothing. Better to devote his time and energy to estate business.
He kept in frequent consultation with the estate steward, thankful he had a capable administrator in Conall Gawr. Riding throughout the estate, he realized how much he’d missed this land in the years he’d spent away, serving in the Elegian army. Day after day, he rode from one end of the estate to the other, talking to the tenants, assuring himself that all went well with them.
On this day in mid-summer, he looked out over the green fields, luxurious with summer growth. The corn grew tall, soon ready to harvest, and other crops flourished in the rich soil. A light breeze brought the sweet scent of peaches, the trees where farm workers plucked the fruit. Bittersweet memories swept through his mind. He recalled his mother supervising the kitchen servants as they prepared peaches for canning, and doing as much work herself, boiling the jars and cutting up the fruit. Peach cobbler and peach pie came to mind, happy thoughts of childhood.
Riding toward the cottage of Henwas Buidhe, he noted the thatching on the roof, old and rotting.
“Yes, sir,” the farmer’s wife said as they stood outside the cottage. “Fifteen years we’ve had this same thatching. Now it’s rotting and smelly. Oftentimes we hear rats scurryin’ across the roof.”
“Very well. I’ll have the thatcher replace the cover as soon as he can.”
“Thank you, sir.”
At the home of Malvin Colgain, he spoke with the farmer’s wife, thinking that he hadn’t seen the farmer recently.
“My husband broke his leg two days ago, sir. He can’t do no work, laid up with a broke leg as he is.”
“The doctor has surely set the leg?”
She scoffed. “Beg pardon, sir. Don’t mean no disrespect. I sent my oldest son to fetch the doctor, but he wouldn’t come. Said he wouldn’t treat no peasants.”
“What?”
“That’s what he said, sir. Pardon my frank talk.”
He tapped his riding crop against his leg. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Very well. I’ll speak to the doctor, make sure he treats your husband.”
“Thank you, sir.” Yet her lined face held a look of hopelessness.
Fists clenched, Colin mounted his horse and rode off. He wanted to wring the doctor’s neck. A short ride took him to the doctor’s house, a gracious stone residence bordered by hydrangea bushes and a weeping willow.
He knocked on the door, pacing back and forth as he waited.
An elderly man stood at the open door. “Yes, sir?”
“I want to see the doctor.”
“Sir, he’s having his breakfast. If you’d come back—“
”I want to see him now!”
“Yes, sir. Come in, sir.”
He stepped inside the entrance, realizing this was the first time he’d visited the doctor’s home. And he hoped it would be the last.
A few minutes later, the doctor approached. “Oh, Master Duffrey, how good to see you.” He held a chair for him. “Sit down, won’t you.”
“No, thank you, I’ll stand.” Leaving no room for casual talk, he got right to the point. “Doctor, I want it understood that as the physician in the estate’s employ, you are to serve the tenants, not just the more prosperous families of Ulaidh.”
“Well, yes, of course. That’s what I try—“
”You don’t try hard enough! You may recall that Farmer Colgain broke his leg two days ago, and his son came to you, requesting your help.”
“Yes, but—“
The doctor’s face turned red, whether from anger or embarrassment, Colin didn’t know and cared less.
He left, resolved to check on the farmer again tomorrow, to ensure the doctor had set his leg.
Another idea captured his attention. The tenants all lived in hovels, and there was no better word for their houses. He’d like to tear all the cottages down and build sturdier houses for them, nothing elaborate, of course, but homes that didn’t look as if they would blow over with the first strong wind. He kept that prospect in mind, something to deal with at a later time.
That night, as he prepared for sleep, he agonized over taking Donella to his bed and making love to her, when he cared nothing for her and knew she didn’t love him. He undressed and opened all the windows, trying to find relief on this scorching summer night.
As the house grew silent and time passed, memories of Alana taunted him. If only he could see her one more time before his handfasting. Did she ever think of him? Surely she must be living in Moytura now; he wondered how she fared. Was she teaching now? He tossed and turned, but sleep was long in coming. Eyes wide open, he stared up at the ceiling, fighting a greater despair than he’d ever known. My dear Alana, I love you so very much.
On the last night before Donella Furneth would become his wife, several of his friends from neighboring estates threw him a bachelor’s party. Liquor and ribald jokes abounded, Colin drinking and joking with the rest. He drank more than usual, wanting to blot out all thoughts of the approaching ceremony. He went to bed in the early hours of the morning, hoping for sleep, dreading a night like the previous one. Yet he couldn’t drive the knowledge from his mind that later this day, he and Donella would be joined in marriage.
Enchanted Cottage (Avador Book 3, Books We Love Fantasy Romance) Page 9