Knight and the Witch 02 - A Summer Bewitchment (8 page)

Magnus was kissing her, murmuring in the old speech. Safe in his arms, making him safe and beloved in hers, Elfrida sank into his embrace. She knew without his saying that he had been rejected, shrieked at again, and only for his surface appearance, the least thing of him. The girl had not heard the sympathy in his voice, nor seen the kindness in his eyes. She had not noticed when he wrapped her in his cloak. She had judged him on his scars.

“Glad you came, sweeting.”

“I gathered that.” She drew back to look at him, so he could see her admiring.

“Baldwin has melted away very quickly.”

“I told him to.”

“And how did you persuade him to ride you over? No, I do not think I want to know that. But how you ride! You must have tumbled off close to a dozen times.”

“I did not want to ride in front of him as I do with you.” She saw his eyes glow at that. “Who is the sleeper?”

A dart of sorrow, so fast that any who did not know him as she did would have missed it, crossed his handsome-ugly face. “Ah, now that is the puzzle.”

The girl screamed at him when she saw him and was too horrified to answer questions. Poor Magnus. How vile it is for him.

Still with her locked in his embrace he turned on the road. “Now you are here, do you remember that charm you laid on the necromancer’s servant last winter? The one you said soothed and comforted?”

To comfort him, Elfrida stroked a hand down his back. “That may not be needed.” The girl could not help her terror any more than her husband could help his looks.
But I can help them both, and I will
.

Having Elfrida by him was more than balm. He was fully alive again, feeling as young as Tancred and bursting with hope. His clever witch-wife understood his need for contact, too. Taking his huge paw in her delicate hand, she led him to the slumbering maid. Then, being Elfrida, she did an unexpected thing.

She knelt by the girl and leaned close but did not touch her. She sniffed the lass’s breath, her hair, and sat back on her heels.

“This child has been drugged, very lightly, with a sleeping draught.”

Slowly, she drew apart his cloak and placed the tips of her fingers on the sleeping girl’s palm. “Cool but not cold. Skin softened lately by unguents.”

She glanced down the length of the tiny body. “Bare feet. Clean bare feet. She rode here, or came in a cart or carriage.”

Magnus thought of the fresh cart track and nodded. “How did she escape?”

“Or was she let go? Or is she another altogether? Let us—”

She stopped, turning her head on one side. “The Lady Astrid comes. You will hear and see her soon. Can you keep her back for a moment? It need not be for long.”

Magnus snapped his fingers at the hovering guard and sent him off to gather others and delay the coming Norman storm.

Elfrida sat by the head of the sleeping girl. Blushing a little, she patted the grass beside her.

Still shy of commanding me, sweet, after six months of marriage? No matter, you will not be shy tonight.
Grinning at the thought, Magnus crouched beside her. His wife shifted slightly so he could see her, the girl, and the road.

“Where are the lady’s people, the ones who rode out with you this morning?” she asked in a low voice. “Where is Father Jerome?”

“The priest is ministering to a dying villager, a plowman who broke his back and who cannot be saved.” Anticipating her sympathy, he added quickly, “The man lingers but he has no pain.”

He watched her close her eyes and say a brief prayer. “As you say,” she remarked, opening her eyes. “He will go in peace, with the sunset.”

How does she know this? She is a witch and knows many things, some I wish she did not know.
Magnus crossed himself and returned to more earthly, political matters. “As for the others, I sent them on with Tancred to the hamlets.”

“They did not try to wake this child?”

“After she had screamed down half the woodland on seeing me? No. Ill-luck like that is catching. I know men. We did not know the girl’s name and they were eager to leave, believe me, to discover some knowledge they hope will be useful, something they can tell their lady.”

Elfrida looked at him, a piercing glance as if she could read his thoughts, both good and ill. He wanted to kiss each freckle on her forehead, kiss her flower-petal lips and her gleaming amber eyes. The sunlight burnished her red hair and dazzled him.

“You are lucky, Magnus.”

“Because I found you, I know.”

“You are fortunate because the Holy Virgin loves you and for the rest we found each other. Now let me work.” Clearly seeking to take any sting from her words, Elfrida leaned into him. He kissed her lightly, feeling her smile, and then she drew back. He became aware of birdsong again and, in the distance, unseen as yet, the rumble of approaching horses.

Taking a deep breath, Elfrida touched the sleeping girl’s forehead. At once her own face lost its habitual animation and color. Bleached as parchment, she closed her eyes.

“Do not be afraid.” Her voice was slower, a little more resonant, carrying a faint echo. “Do not be afraid, Magnus.”

She is between the worlds again, tracking the girl through dreamland and sleep.
His whole body tightened with alarm, with frustration at being unable to go with her, to fight for her. He forced himself to speak steadily. “Only of losing you, my heart.”

She clasped his hand, her long fingers smooth and strong as a shield. Pictures sprang before his eyes, a race of images faster than the galloping hooves of the closing horses.

“Her name is Ruth of Lowton. It is her real name. She worked with her widowed mother as a nail maker, a spinner, a gleaner… many tasks, sunrise to sunset and into dark.”

Elfrida paused, then spoke again. “Ruth liked living with Silvester. She met him outside the church of Lowton where he played the pipes. Silvester asked her to go away with him. She said yes because he was handsome and she was weary of quarrelling with her mother, tired of the endless work.”

Handsome. It is always the pretty ones who can cheat and steal and lure because they look good.
Magnus clenched his teeth and his fist.

“Silvester gave her beautiful new clothes. He gave her other sisters. She had enough food to eat, and sweets, treats of oranges candied with sugar cone. He taught her to play the harp. When she cried he cuddled her. He took her with him on the wagon. She was his trusted girl, his good girl.”

Magnus glanced at Ruth. The girl was as still as a sun-basking butterfly through this tale of abduction and seduction, her breathing as delicate as mist. Elfrida’s fingers tightened round his and she continued to speak in the same low monotone.

“Ruth broke her vows. She left Silvester because he liked Rowena more, because Rowena, who was a new sister, was younger and very pretty. She left because she missed her mother. She left because she was not going to be first. She left. Silvester thought she was sleeping in the wagon.”

The pretty, the handsome win out again. But I am glad she escaped.
Magnus slapped his fist lightly against the stump of his missing hand.

Ruth snored gently. Elfrida’s cheeks glistened with tears.

“He did not care enough to stop, to go back and look for her. I want my mamma.”

Magnus’s spine and scalp crawled. His wife’s voice had become that of a child’s, young and lost.

“You are safe,” he whispered, squeezing Elfrida’s hand. “You are both safe. Come back now.”

“Will you take me to my mamma?”

“I will.”

At once, Elfrida opened her eyes, gathered Ruth into her arms and sat with her on Magnus’s legs. Astonished at her speed and effortless strength, he stared.

“Hold us both,” she instructed. “Do not let us fall.”

Wondering at the word “fall,” Magnus wound his arms about the pair of them. “Elfrida?”

“I am here with you.” Elfrida tucked Magnus’s cloak about the girl and eased her arm beneath Ruth’s head. She watched Ruth closely for another long moment, then sighed.

“All is well. She has gone into deeper sleep. I want her waking to be smooth and gentle, but for now, we can let her go. Unless she is shaken, nothing will disturb her.”

She lifted the girl back onto the grass and spread her own cloak over her. A guardianship, Magnus guessed, and possibly even another sleep charm.

“How did you do that?” he asked, as she scrambled to her feet, facing the gathering riders. “Lifting her in the way you did. She is as tall as you.”

“The will and the Holy Mother make many things possible.” Elfrida held out both hands to help him up, laughing as he rose without her aid.

“All is well,” she said a second time. “Magnus…she is untouched as yet.”

He nodded, a shiver skidding over him as he recollected the chilling words,
She left because she was not going to be first.

“Ruth will recover more quickly because she is innocent.”

Pray God we reach the others in time, especially the first.
Magnus nodded again.

“Excellent,” he said. “Though I like it not that Ruth and Rowena are small.”
Like you.

Elfrida said quietly, “I am too old for Silvester.”

“That may be true, but I still do not like it.”

“Ruth recognizes you as a friend,” his wife went on quickly. “You kept her safe as she flew in dreams. She heard your vow to guide her home. She will not forget.”

“Good.”
If that means she does not shriek on seeing me afresh, I am content.
Magnus spotted Lady Astrid through a haze of dust, a thunder of horses. “Here is another ‘friend.’ What do we tell her?”

“Enough, but not too much,” replied Elfrida, repinning her veil and raising her chin. “She, rather, has things she should tell us.”

“Amen,” said Magnus.

As Lady Astrid dismounted, Elfrida glanced again at Magnus. “Did you find any trace of the other missing girls?” she asked quickly. Her husband frowned and shook his head, once. She felt aggrieved herself.

There should be some signs of Silvester. He is a man, yet he seems to come and go like a spirit. Is he another dark wizard? I sense not, but what if I am mistaken? What is amiss, too, with Magnus? Why is he so irritated with me, so restrained? What have I done?

And here, striding forward with a face as rigid as a steel blade, was Rowena’s “guardian,” and a paltry one to Elfrida’s way of thinking.
The lady rides to our manor from here and then rides back. Why? Why does she travel in person when she could send messengers? Does she care so much? No, but she does not want to give up control. She does not trust anyone. Since I rode out in haste she assumes there must be news, so sets out herself. She wants to be on hand to react.

“Looks like an icicle,” Magnus muttered against her ear. Aloud he said, “Lady Astrid, you come at a lucky moment. I have good tidings— not so fast, young man.”

A squire was trying to make for the sleeping girl. Before Elfrida could react, Magnus stepped in front of the youth and stopped him from shoving past the rest of Lady Astrid’s maids and attendants. “The lass needs peace.”

Pale as a frozen primrose, Lady Astrid yanked the squire aside. “For shame! You deny me a reunion with my ward?”

“No indeed, my lady, but this girl is not Rowena.” Magnus held up a hand before Lady Astrid could protest. “She knows your ward, though. From her my wife has learned that Rowena is alive and unharmed.”

“For now,” put in Elfrida, wanting the woman to face her. “The girl who sleeps, her name is Ruth. She and Rowena were taken by a man called Silvester.”

Lady Astrid’s expression did not change, but her eyes widened. She turned abruptly to Magnus. “Where is he?” she demanded.

“We should know soon enough. We have learned—”

“
Mon Dieu
! Rouse the girl, compel her to talk!”

“Ruth does not know.” Before Magnus could stop her, Elfrida stepped directly in front of Lady Astrid. “Her recollections are cloudy. Silvester drugged her with a tincture of the eastern poppy.”

“An expensive potion,” Magnus threaded in seamlessly, understanding the thrust of her conversation. “One beyond the reach and purses of all but the very rich and powerful, the
Norman
rich and powerful—like the sweets Silvester feeds them.”

The lady disguised the tiny start she made then by tweaking the folds of her long cloak. “How does this serve?” she snapped. “You, sir, are meant to be a tracker. Why have you not found my ward?”

Magnus looked as genial as he ever could with his scars, and his reply sounded mild but was to the heart. “You delayed in seeking my help, Lady Astrid. You also gave me no trace of the other victims.”

“Though you surely had it. Gifted to you by anxious, trusting parents.” With that insight Elfrida appreciated more. Curbing a livid flash of temper, she said, “Had you not been so single-minded and selfish in your search, you might have recovered Rowena with the other girls.”