Music of the Distant Stars (10 page)

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Authors: Alys Clare

BOOK: Music of the Distant Stars
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Quick as a flash Zarina pounced. ‘Who says he has run away? All I said was that I had not seen him today.’
He stared at her, after a moment grunting his agreement. ‘Very well. If he comes back, I want to see him. You can find me up at Lakehall. I am Alain de Villequier.’
‘I know who you are, sir,’ Zarina replied levelly. ‘When my brother comes home, I will send word.’
I had to admire her. She had neatly altered
if
to
when
and, by saying she would send word, she had subtly implied that she had no intention of presenting either herself or her brother to Sir Alain at the hall.
Sir Alain seemed about to speak. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d issued a harsh reminder of his and Zarina’s relative places in the hierarchy. Apparently thinking better of it, he spun round, ducked under the doorway’s low lintel and strode away.
Zarina maintained her straight-backed pose until he was out of sight. Then she fell into my arms.
Edild watched as carefully I helped Zarina to her cot, sitting down beside her, her hand in mine. Then she said, ‘Where is he, Zarina?’
She shook her head. ‘Truly, I do not know!’
‘But there is something you do know that you did not reveal?’
Zarina met her eyes. ‘Of course!’
Edild smiled faintly. ‘Go on.’
Zarina’s hand was clutching convulsively at mine. Her grip was strong, and it hurt. ‘Lassair brought him home early yesterday,’ she said. Edild shot me an accusing glance, and I recalled that, what with everything that had happened, I’d forgotten to tell her. Or maybe something in me had stopped me, as if the fact of explaining to Edild where I’d found him and what I suspected made what I feared more real. ‘He’d been crying,’ Zarina was saying. ‘I gave him some food, then tried to find out what had upset him. He refused to tell me at first, then he started sobbing and saying something about a dead girl and how she was lying in the grave, and then he began this awful howling, as if he were in pain, and I made him drink some of that stuff you gave me.’ She looked up at Edild, and I guessed she was referring to a sedative of some sort. It would be useful to have a sedative if you had to deal with a big, strong child-man like Derman.
‘He slept then?’
‘He dozed, but he was very restless. Then he got up and came to help me till it was time for dinner. He ate a bit, although not much, then he went to bed.’ She stifled a sob. ‘That’s the last I saw of him.’
Edild now crouched down so that her eyes were level with Zarina’s. ‘A young woman is dead,’ she said gently. ‘Her name was Ida, and she was a seamstress working for a relation of Lord Gilbert’s, who is staying with him up at the hall. It’s said that Derman took a fancy to Ida, that he used to lie in wait for her and left her little offerings. He—’
‘Yes, I know,’ Zarina said calmly. ‘Well, I knew there was someone, although I didn’t know who. I’ve talked it over with Haward and his mother. They’re both very worried too.’
Edild’s eyes bored into mine. I could hear her voice in my head:
something else you didn’t see fit to tell me!
I was going to have quite a lot of explaining to do. Then, turning back to Zarina, she said, ‘Where do you think he has gone? Is there any place you know of where he goes if he’s upset?’
Zarina shook her head. ‘It’s very unlike him to venture far away from me,’ she said. ‘It’s how I guessed about this girl he fancied – because he started disappearing. I followed him one day and spotted her, and when I challenged him he admitted it.’ She shook her head again, more slowly. ‘All I can think of is that he’s gone to the places he used to see her. Maybe he doesn’t understand she’s dead and is trying to find her. I was going to go and look, soon as this lot’s done.’ She indicated a basket of dirty laundry awaiting her attention.
Edild rose to her feet. ‘We will go, Lassair and I,’ she announced.
Zarina looked up at her, gratitude flooding her face. ‘Will you? That’s most kind, and I’m very grateful.’ I made as if to rise, but she clutched my hand. ‘Wait!’ she hissed.
‘Edild, I’ll catch you up,’ I said to my aunt. She raised a questioning eyebrow but, bless her, did not object. I watched her walk away, then whispered, ‘What is it, Zarina?’
‘I’m very worried, Lassair!’ she whispered back.
Shocked, I said, ‘You really think he could have harmed Ida?’
‘No, no, I know he couldn’t have done any such thing!’ Her protest was heartfelt, but then she was his sister and had apparently spent her life looking after him.
‘What is it that worries you, then?’
She sat quietly for a moment, staring into the distance. Then she said, ‘You know Haward wants to marry me?’
‘Yes, and I’m
very
glad,’ I replied.
She smiled. ‘Thank you. But it’s not as simple as him asking and me saying yes. There’s Derman.’
Yes. There was Derman. ‘What does he think about the marriage?’
‘He’s not—’ She stopped herself. I don’t know why, but I had the distinct impression she had just bitten back something very important. Then instead she said, ‘Lassair, because of Derman I can’t marry Haward.’
Whatever she had been about to say, it couldn’t have been worse that what she did say. Horrified, I protested, ‘But he loves you! He really does, Zarina, and you’re the only woman who’s ever really loved him back! You—’
She put up her hand and gently laid it across my lips. ‘I know, Lassair. I love him too, with all my heart. But Derman’s—’ Again she broke off. After a moment she resumed. ‘Derman is my responsibility. He is as he is, and it’s hard living with him. I ought to know,’ she added bitterly, instantly adding, ‘It’s not his fault, and he’s not bad, not really. There’s no evil in him, that I’ll swear.’
‘Then why—’
‘I cannot inflict Derman on anybody else,’ Zarina said simply. ‘Haward says it doesn’t matter, that his – your – family will accept him, but I can’t see how it’d work. Your parents live in that lovely little house that your mother keeps so neat and tidy, and that’s where Haward will take his wife, at least till he can build a home of his own. Can you see Derman there, Lassair?’
‘Yes I can!’ I said stoutly.
Zarina laughed. ‘That’s because you don’t live there yourself,’ she said kindly and, I have to admit, accurately. ‘The day Derman and I moved in would be the ruin of your mother and the family,’ she went on, her voice serious now. ‘I really like your mother, and I won’t do that to her. Besides, it’s impossible anyway, as I said, because – well, it’s not going to happen.’
I sat there holding her hand, listening to the echoes of her voice. Then I leaned over, kissed her and got up. As I went out, I turned and said, ‘We’ll see.’
Then I hurried off after Edild.
We searched for a long time. We covered the ground all the way from Lakehall to the lonely island where Granny lay in her grave. We criss-crossed here and there, venturing off the tracks and the paths, following the winding waterways and creeping right up to the water’s edge to stare down into the black mere. We found no sign of Derman. If he was really out there, looking in vain for his dead love, then he had hidden himself so well that we could not find him.
The long day was at last starting to come to a close when finally we gave up and turned for home. We walked without speaking. I had apologized to my aunt for not having told her I’d come across Derman the previous morning as I raced for help after making my discovery, and for omitting to repeat the discussion concerning him that I’d had with my mother. She had forgiven me, graciously agreeing that so much had happened recently that it was not surprising I had been so uncharacteristically forgetful.
I was so tired that I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. I was stumbling along with my head down, concentrating so hard on the simple act of walking that I did not realize Hrype was there until he spoke. Looking up, I saw him standing on the track in front of us. Sibert and Haward were with him.
‘What are you doing out here?’ Edild asked. Her tone was courteous, no more; she has a way of disguising her feelings for Hrype so skilfully that sometimes even I, who know better, doubt that the two of them are any more than colleagues and friends.
‘Zarina told Haward that you and Lassair had gone to look for Derman,’ Hrype replied. ‘We came to find you.’
‘We have discovered no sign of him,’ Edild said. ‘We have searched the ground between the island and the hall, without success.’
‘We t–too have been searching, out on the other side of the village, and we didn’t find him either,’ Haward said. I met his eyes and tried to smile. He must have seen my exhaustion on my face, for straight away he hurried to my side and put his arm round my waist. ‘You should g–g–go home!’ he said to me. ‘You’re w–worn out.’
‘We must find him,’ I said dully.
‘We will search again in the morning,’ Hrype announced. ‘For now, it is too dark to pursue the hunt. Besides, you two should not be out here by yourselves.’ He looked at Edild, a worried frown on his face.
She was tired too, but not so tired that she did not stiffen at his words. ‘Why not?’ she asked, and I detected a warning chill in her tone.
‘Someone has just been murdered,’ he said gently, ‘not a mile from where we now stand. We have no idea why she was killed and no idea who killed her. It is not safe for you.’
‘But it is all right for you men to risk the danger of being attacked?’ Now Edild sounded plainly angry.
Hrype sighed. ‘Edild, there are three of us, and we are armed.’ He carried a long knife in a scabbard at his belt. Haward and Sibert held heavy clubs.
I glanced at Sibert. He raised his eyes to the darkening skies in a gesture of exasperation, and I very nearly laughed. He knows his uncle – his father – pretty well, although I don’t think he’s aware of the relationship between Hrype and my aunt.
I was sagging against Haward, and I guessed he was having quite a job to support me. ‘I want to go home,’ I said. ‘I’ll search for Derman all day tomorrow, but now I need to sleep.’
Edild brushed past Hrype and Sibert and, beckoning to Haward, said, ‘Bring her back to my house, please, Haward.’ She shot Hrype an icy look. ‘We shall speak of this in the morning.’
We plodded the remaining mile or so to Aelf Fen in silence. When we reached the first of the houses, Edild stopped, for our way led off up to our right and the others would go straight on into the village. ‘I will take her now,’ she said regally to Haward, who relinquished his hold on me, kissed me briefly on the cheek and strode away.
‘I can manage on my own!’ I exclaimed, twisting away out of her reach as she went to take my arm. I’d had enough. Without a backward glance, I strode away up the track to Edild’s house. I was aware of Hrype’s and Edild’s voices muttering in the darkness behind me, although I could not make out the words. I did not care. I wanted my bed.
I made a detour to the jakes and the water trough before I went inside. Even the chill of cold water on my hands, face and neck did not revive me; I was worn out. I stumbled back round the side of the house, and my hand was on the door latch when I heard it.
He was singing the same song. The same eerie sequence of notes filled the night air, eloquent of misery and loss. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I shivered as some strong emotion evoked by the chant coursed through me. I wanted to weep for all the sorrows in the world.
Slowly, I turned my head. Where was he? I stared wide-eyed into the shadows, but I could make out no human shape. But he was close, he must be! Why couldn’t I see him?
Dread filled me. Perhaps he wasn’t human at all. Perhaps he was a spirit, a sad ghost trapped here on earth by his grief and impotently singing his pain to the stars . . .
All at once my nerve broke. Flinging open the door, I fell inside the house, slamming the solid wood behind me. I stood for some moments with my hands behind me, pressed against the door. It took a while for me to realize that I could no longer hear the singing.
I threw myself down on my bed and, just in case it started up again, covered my head with my pillow.
The singer watched as the young girl with the copper-coloured hair and the boyish figure wrested open the door of the little house and disappeared inside.
You hear me, don’t you, lass?
he thought.
You listen to my song and you go rigid as you perceive my pain. You have a good heart, and I am sorry that I frighten you
.
He heard footsteps on the path: a quick, light step that he recognized as belonging to the older woman who lived in the little house. He slipped back into his hiding place and watched as she hurried up to the door and let herself in. She was a healer; his sense of smell was strong, and he could detect her profession from the scent of her clothes, as he could from those of the copper-haired girl. The house itself smelt of clean, fresh things: of herbs and fresh-cut grass. He liked the smell. He liked being close to the house. It gave him comfort, of a sort.
But there was no real comfort, not any more. His world had come to an end. He was alone, away from the place he had known all his life. He felt the great surge of anguish rise up in him, and a few notes of his song emerged from his lips. As if the music lanced his pain, for a few moments it eased.

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