"Something like that," he said meekly, realizing how ludicrous it sounded, even if it was mostly true.
"Well, I knowed ye liked her," she said. "An' I knowed she liked ye, too. But she came in a bit of trouble, an' I thought the best thing would be to keep her awhile. All quiet, like."
"I know what happened to her," Robby said. Mrs. Bosk stopped what she was doing and looked at him with her searching blue eyes, her lips pursed in consideration. "Ashlord told me what her uncle did to her."
"I see."
She looked at him a long time, then, although she spoke softly, her words thundered in his head.
"Then do ye know that when it happened, she was pregnant?"
Robby's heart stopped then flew into his throat and pounded away there. His face reddened and his mind raced. A hoarse, "No," came from his throat.
Mrs. Bosk nodded. "Fairly far along, too. I didn't think Ashlord'd tell ye that part. Ye know I'd never do anythin' to hurt ye. Yer mum an' me go way back, an' I think of ye as like one of me own. So I want ye to know this: That night she came here, after that vile uncle of hers did what he did. She was half dead, first from the beatin' he gave her, an' other unspeakable things, an' then from her crawlin' an' scratchin' halfway 'cross the county to get here."
"But why didn't she come to Passdale?" Robby shook his head. "Passdale is a lot closer to her uncle's place than here!"
"Oh, dear lad," she brushed a curl of Robby's hair from his brow. "She came here 'cause she didn't want ye to know. She didn't want ye to know what Steggan did. An' she was more than four months on, just startin' to show. She wanted to have the baby somewhar else. An' she didn't know what to do."
Mrs. Bosk stood and walked to the window, looking out to the side yard and the folks coming and going, the smoke rising some distance away from the pyre being lit.
"It was a fitful rain that night. Cold. Windy. I was the only one up, cleanin' late right here in the kitchen, when a powerful knock came on the back door yonder. Figured it must be the foreman comin' to fetch Mr. Bosk 'bout somethin' er other. But when I got at the door an' pulled it open, thar she was, slumped down on the porch. Thinkin' back, I don't know how on earth she made it in her condition. Like I said, nearly dead from the beatin' she took, an' from a mighty loss of blood, her clothes all torn up, soaked to the bone. I have no idear how she knocked so hard on the door, the way she was, seein' how she couldn't even stand. I thought someone must've helped her along, but thar warn't nobody else around."
"A terrible night!" she went on, turning back to Robby, her eyes glistening. "She pleaded with me not to let her lose the child. I tried, Robby. Tried all I knew. But the both of 'em couldn't be saved. A terrible night! She cried an' cried, an' I cried right along with her whilst I worked. She kept callin' yer name. Out of her head, like. Beggin' ye not to go away, not to leave her. Between tryin' to keep her calm an' tryin' to convince her ye warn't here an' never was, an' tryin' to do me work on her. Awful, awful night!"
She wiped her eyes and sat back down and picked up some bandages she had made.
"It was hard, an' if it warn't for the foxdire what grows in these parts, I don't know what I might've done."
"Foxdire?" Robby asked absently, his eyes on the floor and his thoughts in disarray.
"Aye, some calls it Grave's Breath, 'cause if it's pure it brings on a sleep no one may wake from. But just a little of the essence, mixed with a jigger of Fetch an' honey let Sheila sleep, an' it calmed her down enough for me to work on her. It had to be done, else thar'd be two graves on the hillside, 'stead of just a little secret one."
"So that was that," Frizella continued, binding Robby's wounds as she spoke. "I kept her in one of our old tenant houses down the lane where I could be with her quickly an' often. No one knew but just a few of us. I kept it from me husband, even. Raenelle wasn't yet back from Colleton, or else I'd have gotten her to help out some. But it's just as well my daughter was still away, I suppose. Sheila's a strong girl, an' she got strength back quicker than one might think possible. 'Bout a fortnight later, it was just after Raenelle came home from school, after a lot of private talkin' with Sheila, she left to go on out to Ashlord. That's where her mind was made up to go, anyways."
"Why?" Robby shook his head. "Why couldn't she have just told me? Or sent word? Or something?"
"Don't ye see? Who's Sheila Pradkin? To folk around here, she's the Wild Girl. Dirty. Uncontrollable temper. Poor. Crude. Unschooled. Left pretty much to shift for herself, she took up huntin' an' fishin' an' doin' men's things. Always been that way. An' along come the son of a big man of Passdale! The son of the most respected man an' lady in all of County Barley! A smart, good-lookin' boy. Different in most every way from all the rest. Why, even in the way ye talk yer different, more like yer mum's folk than us country people. An' a well-off family, too. Don't ye see how she was thinkin'? I know! Look at me! Now the wife of the Laird of Bosk! I know what people say. People talk how I trapped the poor rich sot! Forced him through some folk magic to love me!"
"That's all rubbish!"
"So it is, but alls I'm sayin' is that Sheila felt somethin' of them kind of things."
"But why to Ashlord's?"
"It was her idea, ye see, afore it all went wrong, to stay out thar with Ashlord 'til it came time to have the baby, at which time she'd come to me, or send for me. Ye see, she wanted to learn, Robby. To change." Mrs. Bosk smiled at him. "A desire for that much at least, ye gave her. Whether to impress ye, or for her own reasons, I can't say. But some of both, I think."
"She had already impressed me," Robby said. "Obviously."
"She never told me who the father was." Mrs. Bosk was still smiling, but with her head tilted, as she tried to explain. "She didn't need to. Me own way of seein' it is that she fought too hard to keep the child for it to be Steggan's. It wasn't as if she didn't want me to know. Just that thar was no point in sayin'. An' I didn't see the use in askin'. When she left, an' walked down that lane to go to Ashlord, I think she was the saddest creature I ever saw. She's been through enough, Robby Ribbon, so I asks ye to leave her be for a while. I know Ashlord's done wonders, but it's all been too short a while. Ain't nobody who's been through what she's endured don't need a little extra room, extra consideration, if ye know what I mean. Now. I wish we could talk more on it, but go ahead an' get dressed. I'll shortly fix ye somethin' to eat. It's already cooked an' just waitin' for a plate to be put on. While yer dressin', I'll fetch in the others, an' ye can all eat together."
A few moments later, a plate of steaming vegetables and stewed beef was set before Robby along with a glass of cold apple cider, and he began eating, though rather unenthusiastically and with a knotted stomach. Sheila and Ibin came in, but Billy was delayed in the hallway to receive from his mother a severe and protracted tongue-lashing, overheard by all in the house and most in the yard. When it died down, Billy entered the kitchen, red-faced and subdued, though smiling meekly.
"Well this is more like it!" he said, pulling up a chair next to Sheila and across from Robby. Sheila and Billy talked of the wounded while Ibin and Robby listened. Billy changed the subject to the men on the road.
"Who d'ya reckon they whar?" he asked. "Part of them bandits that folk say took up in the mountains, I bet. Some kind of scoutin' party, I bet."
"Well, they picked a lousy time to scout these parts," Sheila offered.
"Yer right," nodded Billy. "Folks've got enough to worry 'bout with the floodin' an all."
Robby could still feel the warm blush of red in his face from his conversation with Mrs. Bosk, and he could not have felt more awkward in Sheila's presence. He tried to avoid looking across the table at her even though, ironically, she was all he wanted to look at. He wondered what she thought of him. Maybe she knew he was not as tough as she was. She probably felt sorry for such a poor specimen of a man, having to be rescued, patched up, and guided home like a child. On the road, he took no part in the fray, hanging back like a coward. In reality, it was becau
se he did not know what to do. Still, besides Ibin, he was the bulkiest of the four, and he now felt guilty at his earlier hesitation, and a little ashamed of it. The fact was, he knew himself to be an awful fighter who had never won any fight he had ever been in, whether for jest, wrestling with the wiry Billy, or in earnest, as when he stood against those Passdale boys. Now, with what Mrs. Bosk had told him, it all made a strange kind of sense to him. Sheila actually wanted nothing to do with him. Still, she was a good person, and Robby supposed she had felt obliged to thank him for standing up for her, for the fight he had gotten into over the bad things said about her. So to thank him, at least in her own awkward way, and to say goodbye, were the reasons for her coming to the store the next day. But mostly to say goodbye.
"I just don't understand," he blurted out. Sheila turned and saw him staring at her with a look of deep confusion on his face, contorted with the effort of fighting back tears of frustration and anger.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"What don't ye understand?" Billy asked.
Even Ibin had stopped eating and was looking at him.
"Nothing," he said, trying to recover his gaffe. He shrugged. "I mean everything. I mean anything. I don't understand anything. Good grief! I can't even speak!"
"Look, Robby," Billy said, putting down his fork. "A lot's happened to ye. An' a lot's happenin' all over at the same time. Ain't none of us can understand these things, I'll warrant. 'Cept maybe that Ashlord feller. Maybe not even him. I know I talk a big talk. But that's all it is, just talk. Soon ye'll be home, an' ye'll get a chance to rest an' think things over. Yer the smartest feller I know. Ye'll figure some of it out, at least. An' if thar's anything we might do to help, count on us. Ain't that right?"
"Yeah, Robby," Ibin said. "We'llhelp, we''llhelpyou."
"Whatever it takes," Sheila said with an earnestness that tumbled all of Robby's thoughts into a heap.
"I appreciate that," Robby said to them. He wanted to scream out that it wasn't he who needed help, it wasn't he who was betrayed, assaulted, and forced into a self-imposed exile. He shot such an intense look of sorrow at Sheila that it made her swallow a sudden knot in her throat. He looked down at his plate. "I don't think I need help. Or, at least, not right now. If I do, I don't know what with, anyway."
Raenelle and her maid came in and went to the stove to fetch some pots of hot water. Raenelle was still dressed in her nice smock, although she now had her hair pulled up and behind her head. As her maid carefully lifted the pot, Raenelle looked over the group at the table.
"Hello, Sheila," she said stiffly.
"Hello, Raenelle," Sheila replied coolly. It was apparent, as always, that the two girls had little liking for one another, and Billy had implied on more than one occasion that it was not just because Sheila rubbed her the wrong way, so to speak, but also because Raenelle had a liking for Robby that made her jealous. Raenelle held the door for her maid and as they left, Frizella hurried back in along with several other servants.
"I hate to hurry ye along," she said. "But we've got to get some food goin' for the men who'll be soon comin' in, an' we'll need the kitchen. Billy, ye'll be needed. Ibin, too. So don't get it into yer heads to go into Passdale with Robby. Mr. Bosk is arrangin' a mount for ye, Robby. An' as soon as yer ready, I know ye'll be wantin' to get on home. Sheila, yer welcome to stay as long as ye like. An' we can use yer help, too, if ye've a mind."
"Thank you, Frizella," she said. "I'll be going with Robby, just the same. I've got to take care of some things, besides seeing Robby home."
Robby and Sheila made their goodbyes to Ibin and Billy, and Robby thanked Mrs. Bosk as the three walked to the side door together.
"Just make sure ye take care of yerself!" she told him with a gentle hug.
"I have not yet thanked you properly," Sheila said to her, lingering behind the others. "For taking care of me. For saving my life."
"Oh, honey!" Frizella gave Sheila a long, firm hug that, between them, spoke volumes of understanding and sympathy. She held Sheila out to look into her eyes. "I'm just so glad yer well again! Someday maybe we'll get a chance an' catch up with each other. But I think yer stay out at the Hill has done ye good."
"Yes, it has. In so many ways."
"That Ashlord's a wise man, an' I can tell he's made his mark on ye in a big way. Yer speech has even changed, it seems, an' ye look strong!"
"I am. And I think Ashlord taught me more in these past weeks than I have learned my whole life. I can read fairly well, now, and write some, too. Oh, I have so much to tell you!"
"Then come back an' see me as soon as ye can, d'ye hear me? But alright then, much to be done right now! Gimme another hug an' get on over to Passdale as safe as ye can!"
The stable foreman was waiting for them outside with two saddled horses. One of them was Bandit.
"Master Bosk ain't here to see ye off," the foreman said. "But he figured ye'd be able to take Bandit, an' maybe yer ol' man can see he gets back to the Post Station, if that's the way of it. 'Sides, ye'll take good care of him if I know the Ribbons at all. He's been rode hard, an' mistreated. But he's up to gettin' ye home. Here's a few gold pieces that Mr. Bosk wanted me to give ye for Bandit's livery."
"I can't take that," Robby said. "Not after all that's been done for me."
"Ain't my say so," said the foreman. "Ye'll take it, or else I'll hear 'bout it from the Master of Bosk Hall."
Robby took the coins, slung his shoulder bag onto the saddle hook, and climbed up as Sheila mounted a fine old mare nearby. The two rode out from Bosk Manor and under the gateway now decorated with the grim trophies just as the sun passed midday and imperceptibly began its downward slide. As they headed west toward the Bentwide, the wind picked up, and a cool breeze fanned across Barley. Sheila and Robby spoke very little for most of the way, and Robby kept the pace up, as anxious to get home as he was to avoid any uncomfortable conversation. Sheila, for the most part, rode several yards behind, but, after awhile, she nudged her mount up alongside Robby.
"You need to go a little easier on Bandit, I think," she said. "He's had a rough few days. And he's not the only one, unless Mrs. Bosk's bandaging is better than my own."
Robby managed to smile.
"You're right," he said. "I should be more careful on both accounts."
Robby slowed Bandit's pace, and then he and Sheila continued on more leisurely, side by side. They remained silent and traveled far, and, coming to the Bentwide Road about two hours after leaving Bosk Hall, they turned northward and followed the way along the riverbank.
"You know," Robby observed, "the river doesn't look as high as it should be. With the rains and flood, it should be fairly surging. It looks too low, considering."
Sheila nodded, looking down the bank at the gurgling water. It was muddy, but the old moss-covered rocks that lined the banks were dry, and there was little or no debris floating by as with the Saerdulin or most of the creeks they had passed.
"Pretty strange," she said at last.
They continued on, each silently pondering the mystery until, after another hour, they came within sight of the farthest outskirts of Passdale across the river, the water even lower than before.
"So Ashlord taught you a lot, I guess," Robby finally ventured.
"Not as much as there is to know," she said. "But for me he has been a miracle. You helped me with my letters, and he picked up where you and I left off with them. He has a strange way of teaching. For three weeks I did nothing but read. It was a struggle. Not only was I not a very good reader, in spite of your valiant efforts, but the books he had me read were so difficult. All about history, legend, and lore. When the books ran out, he had me copy sections and read them to him. He has a tablet that you can write on and then wipe away what was written and write more, using a kind of clay stylus. So over and over and over I read, wrote, read aloud, wiped away, wrote more. And we walked, too, and walked and walked. On some days he barely said a word, and on other days there was
not a moment that he was not talking himself hoarse. Even when doing chores, cutting wood, doing wash, or cleaning the hearth, he'd talk and question me on what I had learned. He would speak in foreign tongues, and he also taught me some of the Ancient Tongue still used in the west. He sent me on errands, too. Once all the way to Janhaven by way of the back roads, with strict instructions not to be seen by anyone, even if it took a week. Just to deliver a letter! He taught me other things, too. Or at least tried to."
"Like what?"
"Well, about living, I guess you could say."
"How so?"
"Well, Ashlord is a very patient man," she tried to explain. "But he can be quite passionate about certain things. About the past. About how folks ought to act and how folks should treat each other. He's got a sense of honor, of right and wrong. He's not a rash person and takes everything into consideration. I've met only one other person like him."
"Oh?"
"Yes. You."
"Me?" Robby was shocked. "I don't think I'm like Ashlord at all! I don't know what you mean by that."
"You like to read," Sheila went on. "You're patient and kind. Not quick-tempered, and you try to do the right thing, even if no one's watching or making you do it."
Robby felt suddenly embarrassed by the flattery.
"Trying ain't always doin', as Billy might say," he said. "You think too much of me."
"I have often thought of you, Robby Ribbon."
Robby stopped his horse and looked at Sheila who halted close to him. He dismounted and took Bandit's reins in hand and led him closer to the bank. Sheila did the same and followed alongside. They walked slowly for a few yards, then Robby sighed and turned to Sheila.
"I know what happened," he said. "And I am very sorry. I don't know what to say, except I want you to know that I never meant to cause you any harm or any sadness."
Sheila looked searchingly into Robby's eyes, then reached up her hand and put it on his face.
"If I am sad," she said, "it is not because of you. And if any harm has come to me, it was not of your doing. You must believe me. I hold you blameless."
The Bellringer Page 23