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Authors: Juliet Marillier

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BOOK: Dreamer's Pool
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‘It wasn’t until much later that we put the pieces together,’ I said. ‘It seemed possible the kerchief might have been dropped down onto the cart from Branoc’s loft, through a crack in the floor or between the shutters. Once we thought of that, it all seemed to fit, in a way that troubled me. The kerchief, very likely a gift from a traveller boy to his sweetheart.
A loves N
. Then there were the noises up in the loft and Branoc getting annoyed with Grim for mentioning them. Branoc not wanting Grim to go up there. He even took the ladder away.’

‘This pointed to a possible abduction,’ Prince Oran said. ‘But you chose not to bring it to me.’

I wanted to tell him I had no cause to trust princes and the like, especially where the plight of abused women was concerned. But that argument wasn’t going to help anyone. ‘I suspected Branoc might have a prisoner up there,’ I said, keeping my gaze on the calm features of the prince and the wise ones of the two lawmen, and telling myself that perhaps not all men in positions of authority were like Mathuin. ‘But there was not enough evidence to bring it to your attention, my lord, or to anyone’s. I believed, rightly or wrongly, that you might dismiss my concerns as being without foundation. Emer had told folk in both Winterfalls or Silverlake that Ness wouldn’t have run away, and nobody had believed her. The evidence was flimsy; there was no proof the kerchief came from Branoc’s. Nor did I know, then, the name of Ness’s sweetheart. We might have made a big fuss, all for nothing.

‘But we knew that if we were right, that young girl must be suffering unspeakable misery. We weren’t going to leave her in that loft any longer than we had to. So we went straight over there to find out for ourselves.’

The audience was hanging on our words now; I felt a hunger in the hall that was quite disturbing. I wanted to elbow my way out and take my companions with me, leaving the community to deal with Branoc. But I could not do that. I hadn’t had much justice in the past. At least, today, I could help deliver justice for Ness.

‘Grim?’ said the prince.

Grim gave an account of our visit to the bakery, and how he had found Ness in the loft and rescued her. I told my side of that day’s story – how I’d used Branoc’s sore shoulders as an excuse to keep him out of the way while Grim rescued Ness; Branoc’s fury when he realised his captive had been freed; his assault on me and his escape.

‘Ness’s injuries are very serious,’ I said. Just how serious, most of these folk could scarcely imagine; Ness had been lucky to survive. She would never be as she had been: a good daughter who had kept house for her widowed father, a lively young woman who had loved to go dancing. ‘I can provide you with further details, my lord, but I will not do so publicly. I am a healer. I confirm that Ness was beaten, abused and robbed of her innocence while kept prisoner. Denied the basic comforts of life. Kept compliant with threats. Ness’s physical wounds will mend in time. But there are deeper hurts that may never heal. I remind you that she is just sixteen years old.’

There, I had said what had to be said. And the crowd was utterly silent.

‘Thank you, Mistress Blackthorn,’ said the prince. ‘This is indeed a disturbing matter, and one for which the entire community bears some responsibility. Regarding Ness’s injuries, I accept your word. I agree that the details should not be made public. Master Cael? Master Tassach?’

Master Tassach gave a nod. ‘If the information comes under dispute,’ he said, ‘I will speak to Mistress Blackthorn in private.’

‘Acceptable,’ said Master Cael, giving his colleague a sideways glance, ‘though unlikely to be required, I believe. To return to the day of the rescue, Grim – you attempted to apprehend Branoc?’

‘Too quick for me,’ Grim said. ‘Bolted into the woods. Couldn’t go after him. Needed two of us to get the girl safely down to Silverlake. She couldn’t walk.’

‘I stayed with Ness overnight,’ I said. ‘I tended to her as best I could and made sure she’d be properly looked after. As you know, she is still too frail to be moved. But she told us her story: that Branoc abducted her, and that he kept her in the loft for the whole time she was missing. His acts of violence were the cause of all her injuries. On the rare occasions when there were visitors to Branoc’s premises, Ness was too frightened to call for help; he’d threatened to harm her father if she did. She did not know Ernan was already dead. She hardly dared do what she did with the kerchief. She knew her captor would punish her if he found out.’

I saw Branoc gathering himself to leap up and protest again, but Master Tassach gave him a long, steady look and he seemed to think better of it. Just as well. If justice was to be served here, that included letting him hear the proceedings in full.

‘Came back here the next morning, told Emer what had happened, then reported to you, my lord,’ said Grim.

‘And went home to find your house on fire.’

It came flooding back, robbing me of words, stealing even the ability to think. Filling my mind with images of death. Filling my ears with my baby’s screams and the roar of the flames.

Grim moved past Emer to put an arm around my shoulders. He was talking, telling the rest of the story. Holding me up. Doing the job for me. I tried to breathe. I fought to get out of the fire.

‘Managed to grab him this time,’ Grim said. ‘Then folk came to help. That’s about it. Didn’t see Branoc start the blaze. But it couldn’t have started on its own. We’d been gone overnight. Hearth fire would have been cold long before then.’

Dimly, I was aware that a lot of folk were looking at me, the prince, Lady Flidais and the two lawmen included. The prince said something, but the crackling of the flames drowned his words. Then Grim was steering me back to the bench, sitting me down. Someone brought me a cup of water. I took a gulp, wiped my mouth, felt tears rolling down my cheeks.

‘It’s all right,’ whispered Emer, putting a handkerchief in my hand. ‘It’s all right, Mistress Blackthorn.’

A pox on it! I wanted to stand strong. I wanted to be a voice for truth, not some weeping, wilting apology for a woman. ‘I’m fine,’ I said, dashing away the tears. ‘Nothing wrong with me.’

‘Mistress Blackthorn, I don’t believe we need trouble you any further.’ It was Prince Oran speaking. ‘We accept your word and Grim’s. We understand that Ness cannot speak for herself at this council, but there can be no doubt that Branoc is responsible for what happened to her. The fire is a different matter, with responsibility not yet proven. However, grave suspicion rests on Branoc, whom we would have expected to leave the district after Ness was freed. Why would he be close by your cottage only one day after his captive was rescued, when Grim had made it quite clear he meant to apprehend him and bring him to justice? That is a question we will shortly put to Branoc himself.’

The prince smiled at me; Master Cael gave me a nod. Master Tassach was making notes on his parchment. ‘Before we move on to Branoc’s account,’ said Master Cael, ‘does anyone wish to provide further information, particularly in the matter of the fire at Blackthorn’s cottage? Are there any questions in relation to the statements we have heard? Keep your comments relevant. As the prince said earlier, we cannot take heed of opinion, only fact.’

The crowd murmured and whispered among themselves. But it was Lady Flidais who spoke out, startling me. I had not expected her to contribute to the council; I’d assumed she was present only because of custom. ‘My lord, what happened to the young woman is quite shocking. It seems she has indeed been wronged. But every case has two sides to it. Surely we must give some weight to the girl’s character; to what she was before she caught the baker’s eye. Was she a young woman of high morals, pure and untouched? Or was the reluctance of the community to believe her friend’s story based, at least partly, on folk’s knowledge that Ness already had a sweetheart, and that he was one of the travelling folk? A girl who favours that feckless sort of man is surely setting herself up for trouble.’

I was on my feet in an instant. ‘That’s offensive! And it’s completely irrelevant! Are you saying that if a woman has lain with her sweetheart before they are wed, that makes her fair game for any oaf who decides to lock her up in his barn and use her as a toy for his pleasure?’

Lady Flidais turned a chilly gaze on me. ‘The baker is entitled to a defence,’ she said. ‘Perhaps the girl encouraged him. Flirted a little; made suggestions. Women do.’

Master Tassach was about to say something, but I got in first, whirling to face the crowd. ‘This community has already done Ness a gross injustice! Is her character now to be questioned in a public forum when she is not present to defend herself? There’s no excuse for what Branoc did to her! It makes no difference what kind of girl she is, or what she may or may not have done before. He hurt her. He imprisoned her. He terrified her. She’s sixteen years old.’ I gazed across the sea of faces, dimly aware that I must be breaking all sorts of rules, but not caring in the least. ‘Ness is not the accused here,’ I said. ‘She’s the victim.’

I faltered. Had I lost control so badly that I was seeing things now? Down at the back of the hall, a pale man in a cloak was standing very still, watching me with a little half-smile on his aristocratic features. Conmael. A man of the fey right here in Prince Oran’s house, among all these human folk. Why weren’t the people around him looking more surprised? The fey appeared so rarely these days that most folk believed them creatures of story, something from the ancient past. It was only in certain pockets of the land that they were sometimes seen; and even then, folk invented tales to explain them away, as if the truth was too hard. I could make no sense of Conmael’s being here.

‘I’ll answer your question, Lady Flidais.’

A firm young voice spoke from beside me; Emer was on her feet. I turned and seated myself again, wishing I could slow my heart.

‘I am Ness’s closest friend,’ she went on. ‘If anyone can speak for her, I can.’

‘Thank you, Emer,’ said Prince Oran. ‘Please proceed.’ His cheeks were flushed, as if he were in danger of losing the calm control with which he had thus far handled the proceedings. But his tone was warm and reassuring.

‘It’s true that Ness had – has – a sweetheart. Abhan, a horse trader, one of the travelling folk. They see each other when the travellers come north, once a year. They’ve been fond of each other since Ness was only thirteen, but because her father needed her at home, she told Abhan she couldn’t marry him, at least not for a few years. There was nobody else to look after the house, to make sure her father ate properly, to keep him company. Abhan said he’d wait for her. My lord, Ness is a good girl. She and Abhan have never . . . they’ve never lain together.’ Emer’s face had gone fiery red, but her voice was steady. She should not have been required to say this; I hoped wretched Lady Flidais was satisfied now.

It seemed she was not. ‘Forgive me,’ the lady said, raising her brows at Emer, ‘but would a girl of sixteen confide such a matter even to her dearest friend? Especially if her father believed her a good and dutiful daughter?’

I opened my mouth to protest, but Emer went on steadily. ‘I know my friend better than anyone, Lady Flidais. She would not lie to me. She would not lie to her father. She would not run away from home and she would not steal her father’s savings. Ness is a good girl, a loyal daughter. And her sweetheart, Abhan, is a good man. He wouldn’t have risked getting Ness with child before they were wed. Ernan liked him; he’d told Ness that when she was eighteen he’d give her permission to marry Abhan and go off with the travellers. Branoc knew that. Ness’s father had told him she was promised to another man.’

‘Ernan told Branoc this?’ Master Tassach’s gaze had sharpened. It seemed that in their discussions prior to the council Branoc had neglected to share this significant detail.

‘She’s lying!’ the baker shouted. ‘He said no such thing! The girl was always meant for me!’

‘Be silent!’ ordered the prince, startling me with the strength of his voice. He turned to the lawmen. ‘Master Cael, Master Tassach, do we need to hear anything further from the young lady?’

‘I think not,’ said Master Cael. ‘Emer, please be seated. Thank you for speaking with courage and clarity. I, for one, am in no doubt as to the veracity of your statement.’

‘This council allows every man the opportunity to speak for himself,’ Prince Oran said. ‘Even those accused of the basest acts, the most abhorrent crimes. Branoc, you have heard the testimony of these three folk in the matter of the abduction and imprisonment of Ness, daughter of Ernan. The evidence is damning; Grim found her shackled and hurt on your premises, and Ness has told Mistress Blackthorn that you were responsible. Unless you can give a convincing explanation for your presence at Mistress Blackthorn’s cottage at the time of the fire, it seems almost certain you carried out that burning in retaliation for the rescue of your captive. You are also under grave suspicion in the matter of Ernan’s death. When you were apprehended after the fire, you had on your person one hundred silver pieces.’ A gasp from the crowd. It was a sum beyond most folk’s wildest dreams, mine included. He must have slipped back to the bakery and retrieved it while Grim and I were taking Ness down to the village. Or perhaps he’d had it hidden out in the woods. ‘That suggests, at the very least, that you planned a rapid departure from the district. It adds weight to the possibility that you stole Ernan’s savings. Now is your opportunity to speak in your own defence on all these matters. Or you may prefer Master Tassach to speak on your behalf. What have you to say?’

‘What does it matter?’ growled the baker. ‘I speak, the lawman speaks, there is no difference. No point in it. You already determine me guilty, all of you! You make up your minds on the word of a crazed witch, a half-witted thug and a child!’

Master Tassach opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He looked deeply uncomfortable. I felt Grim’s tension even though Emer sat between us. He was on the edge of the bench, like a weapon drawn and ready to strike.

‘A child the same age as the one you abducted and abused,’ said Master Cael in a voice no less terrible for its softness.

BOOK: Dreamer's Pool
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