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Chapter Four
“The boy is dead,” Grethel said as she met with the others in the clearing. “He drowned. His side of the curse has been carried out.”
“You did this yourself?” the hairy watcher asked.
“No,” she replied, “he did it of his own will. Now let his spirit rest.”
The child’s old eyes looked sad, pleased. “And the girl?”
“Her curse starts today.”
“But today’s her wedding...” the squirrel said.
Grethel crouched down and let a rat run up her sleeve. “What better day?” she spat.
***
“Ailyth...there’s summit I got to tell you...”
She was woken in a dream and taken to the kitchen, where the cook sat at the table with sadness on his face. Kind hands pushed her gently onto a chair, and a glass of warm milk was placed into her hands. She was still asleep, but her eyes were open as Heloise put a hand on her shoulder.
“I wanted to be the one to tell you,” she said as Ailyth sipped her milk, “and sweet Jesu knows that I’d give anything not to have to give you this piece of news, but rather me than your mother.”
Ailyth nodded, not sure what was going on. The milk was frothy on her lips, and dreams still danced around her head.
“Tristran’s gone, my lamb, he’s gone.”
Ailyth shook her head. “No he hasn’t,” she replied, “I saw him earlier today. We argued...” She frowned. “He’s been very cruel to me.”
Heloise stroked her hand and said kindly, “No, poppet, he’s gone.”
“He’s left me? Did I...oh Heloise, did I make him leave?” Despite everything that he had done, Ailyth still felt a pang of sadness at this news. The reality of not ever seeing him again was like a slap.
“No, love. What I mean is...he’s dead. Las’ night. I am sorry for you, lamb, I truly am.”
She looked at Heloise with a strange expression on her face. Why was the nursemaid lying to her?
“It’s not true,” she whispered. “Tristran can’t be dead, why are you saying these things?”
“He drowned, fell into the moat. We tried to save him, Jack an’ me, but it were too late. We rushed down as soon as we saw him trip, but he were gone already, he were...”
“NO!” Ailyth cried, standing up suddenly. “I don’t want to hear this. I could get you flogged for lying to me like this Heloise, is that what you want?”
“Oh, my little lamb...” Tears were falling down Heloise’s fat, ruddy face as she put her arms out to the girl. Ailyth backed away from her as though she were brandishing a weapon.
“No,” she gasped. “Don’t touch me, don’t touch me Heloise!” She stumbled towards the doors and dropped the milk from her hands. Then, without warning, her legs gave way under her and she crashed onto the floor; curled up in the straw and sobbing against the wall. “We said such terrible things to each other,” she wailed, beating her fists on the stone. “He had another girl, and I said such terrible things.” She appeared to be screaming, although there was no sound, and Heloise pulled her close to her bosom. “Why did we argue?” she forced herself to say through strangled breaths. “We never fought, why did we argue then? I don’t care about Meg, I don’t care about the baby, I just want my Tristran, I just want him back. Oh, make him come back”
Heloise rocked the girl in her arms, tears running down her own face. She didn’t deserve this, she thought, no matter what she’d done, she didn’t deserve this.
***
Ailyth sat bolt upright in bed, screaming. Then there was silence as she stopped and began panting and gasping for breath, pulled from a nightmare by her brother’s hands.
“Calm down, calm down,” Ranulf whispered, his slight body silhouetted comfortingly in the soft-light. His pale face moved through the mists and sharpened as Ailyth’s eyes began to focus. It was so dark in this room, just random clusters of candles softly affecting the still air.
“Where’s the rat, where’s the rat?” she gibbered, leaping from the bed and pounding the floor with her pillow.
“What? What rat?”
“There was a rat, a nasty scabby thing walking over my face, and I couldn’t move at all, I was...”
“Ailyth,” Ranulf said, “nothing walked over your face; I’ve been watching you ever since Heloise brought you back from the kitchen. It’s morning now, everyone else has been awake for hours.”
The feeling of panic that was drumming inside Ailyth’s chest began to slow as it dawned on her that she had been asleep, and dreaming, but the last frozen images in her head persisted; lying in her grave next to Tristran’s grinning skeleton, with rats crawling all over her body and evil-smirking faeries pouring dirt over her, an antler as a trowel.
“I dreamt of the grave,” she murmured, half to herself. “And Tristran...Jesu, he torments me. He blames...he wants me to join him...”
“What do you mean?” Ranulf whispered.
She shook her head. “Tristran’s dead. And today’s my wedding day.”
Lady Eleanor had wanted her daughter awake at the crack of dawn, but Heloise had managed to persuade the flinty-faced woman to let the girl rest. She had a long week ahead of her; starting with the wedding, followed by the wedding night; the final goodbyes to the manor the following day and then the long, six day journey to Matthew’s manor. She would need her sleep. When Ailyth had finally signalled that she was ready to be dressed there were only two hours until the ceremony. Lady Eleanor was spitting with fury that her daughter didn’t seem to be in any hurry to prepare herself.
The girl kneeled before the basin and let the lady-maids pound her hair clean with rocks, to kill the fleas and lice, and pour spiced-oils over it, and then she allowed them to powder her with ivory-dust and twine her hair with golden rope, but she didn’t enjoy any of it. When she was finally dressed, wearing a scarlet gown with gold embroidery and a circlet of gold on her black hair, she just looked at herself and shrugged.
“Try to feel a little enthusiasm, dear!” Lady Eleanor seethed. “You are about to marry a most powerful lord.”
“I suppose I am,” Ailyth muttered, although it didn’t feel like she was about to go to her own wedding. She looked out of the window and saw how blue the sky was, and wished that she could have been picking apples with Tristran.
Heloise was frantic when she saw Ailyth in her red wedding gown.
“No!” she gasped. “If you be married in red, you’ll wish yourself dead.”
“I wish myself dead anyhow,” Ailyth replied. “I can’t see what difference it will make.”
But there was no stopping Heloise now that she had started. “And May!” she exclaimed. “You’re marrying in May! Marry in May and you’ll surely rue the day!” She turned towards Lady Eleanor in a fury. “This wedding could not be more doomed if you planned it!” she cried.
Lady Eleanor smirked. “Don’t try that with me,” she warned. “I know that you’re acting on Ailyth’s behalf. This wedding will not be delayed a moment longer, and especially not with your idle superstitions.”
Ailyth could tell that Heloise was concerned. As they walked to the church a pig ran in front of their path, and the old nurse nearly collapsed. “A bad omen,” she mumbled to herself as she was helped up. “It’s a very bad omen.”
Matthew stood waiting at the church, oiled and grinning. Ailyth nearly faltered when she saw him there, puffed up with pride. Her stomach turned when she thought of how she’d have to spend the rest of her life with him. But her father was standing at the door, to make sure that she didn’t run, and she felt too defeated and numb to try. As she stood at the altar, she glared quietly at her parents for making her do this, and cursed them both for trading her like a piece of cattle. Then she cursed herself, for letting them. And finally, she cursed Tristran for dying.
As Father Simon tied her hand to Matthew’s with a piece of cloth, she gave a sob. The whole manor had turned out to see her wed, and a sea of faces surrounded her, crowding her in and blocking all chance of escape. All the serfs had come to watch, and some ladies and gentlemen too. She couldn’t even hear what Father Simon was saying to her as Matthew leaned forward and kissed her cheek; the noise of everyone thinking was over-powering her.
And Ailyth was married.
As she turned towards her family, with Matthew on her arm, she felt too self-conscious to continue. Tristran was dead, and she was married, and deep inside she felt like they were all laughing at her for being so stupid and hoping that she could marry someone she loved. She wanted to tell them to shut up, but nobody was saying a word. Only the noise of the bells, warning away demons, was to be heard.
“Ailyth...”
And Tristran was there too, weaving his way through the crowd, calling her. She shook her head. He’s not there, she thought. This isn’t real.
“No-one’s mocking you, Ailyth,”
“Tristran, you’re too late”, she answered him. “You didn’t rescue me.”
Everyone was staring at her now, whispering amongst themselves and pointing at her. Even Matthew was giving his new bride a shake.
“Oh my love, why didn’t you rescue yourself?”
Ailyth stared into those familiar blue eyes, now so clear, that gazed peacefully at her.
“I needed you,” she whispered. “I couldn’t do it by myself.”
He brushed a tingling clear hand over the girl’s brow, and Lady Eleanor called out loudly, “What are you looking at, child? Who are you talking to?”
“Over-exhausted,” Heloise said knowledgeably. “It’s bin a tirin’ day for her.”
“You are so tired,” the apparition whispered in a voice so clear that all other noise simply faded away. “These past few days have been a trial for you. Come, rest for a while; it will all be better when you wake.”
“How?” Ailyth mouthed as he placed his arms around her and began lowering her gently to the ground. “You’re gone.”
But there was no answer; he just placed her on the tiles and softly kissed her eyelids closed.
***
Lady Eleanor appeared to enjoy slapping her daughter awake far more than was necessary, and Ailyth was made to attend the feast that followed the wedding. Her parents liked to see her do her duty, especially after she had shown them up so much at the May Day dance, and she knew without a doubt that this was her punishment. In a daze she somehow survived the meal although she felt very faint, and every time that she closed her eyes she saw a white hart, only it had Tristran’s face.
Heloise, at least, was her one ally, and she wouldn’t let the girl be forced to spend the night with Matthew.
“If you want to kill the girl, fine,” she said. “Jus’ remember that dead wives have no sons.” Matthew scowled at this as she continued. “Lady Ailyth is tired, overwrought and her humours are all over the place. If she goes to bed with you then I’m willin’ to wager that she’ll get no sleep, an’ think you that she’ll manage a six day journey back to the Monbardier castle? I should say not! No, she’ll spend the night in her own bed, an’ that’s final!”
Grudgingly, Heloise was allowed her way and, as soon as she was tucked up in her familiar warm bed, Ailyth was sound asleep. Her brother’s and sisters were soon to follow and, as soon as she saw the last drift off to rest, Heloise closed the chamber’s doors and went to the slit of a window.
“How did you manage to climb all the way up here?” she asked a shadowy shape that was waiting in the darkness.
“With a great deal o’ difficulty, let me tell you,” the shape replied, and a red squirrel squeezed his way into the chamber. “Lack-a-mercy, Grethel, what do you look like?”
Heloise smiled and felt her rough, flabby face. “It’s just my manor-look,” she replied. “Beautiful enchantresses are rarely seen as nursemaids.”
The squirrel hopped onto her shoulder and gazed down at the sleeping Ailyth. “Poor child,” he muttered. “Has the curse hit her hard yet?”
Grethel nodded. “Tristran, the boy...well, she feels his loss like a wound, and she’s married now to a great brute of a man who cares for her less than he would a hunting-dog.” She rubbed her eyes. “And tomorrow she’ll leave her home, her friends and her family...and me. Amarett, I’m afraid for her.”
“We can’t take the curse back.”
“But she’s a good girl really and I should know. I’ve seen her grow up. I can’t bear to think of her suffering and...she’ll not last like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s got nothing to live for, and no-one to talk to. She’s just going to give up on life, and who could blame her? Without Tristran...” Grethel shook her head. “How can she save our world if she’s dead? We’ll all be doomed.”
Amarett was quiet, and clasped his tail in his paws. “We’ll have to help her, mebbe tell her what’s goin’ on...”
“We can’t,” Grethel said sadly. “We can’t tell her what she’s got to do, and even if we did what help will that be? When man becomes beast...even I don’t know what that’s suppose to mean.”
The squirrel stared at her. “We just need to give her some direction,” he said. “Not a lot, but some help. She can’t do it alone. She needs a reason to keep living.”
They talked all through the night, under the flickering eye of a dying candle and sitting under the open window, but came up with very little. It was a comfort that since Beltane, or May Day as Topsham knew it, the dark faeries had considerably reduced powers.
“Even...?” Heloise questioned.
“Even she. No powers at all outside of Albion,” Amarett replied.
If they had known what they could expect there might have been something that they could have done but, as Heloise pointed out to the squirrel, they knew nothing of what would happen.
“Argante is deliberately keeping us in the dark,” she said, speaking of the child in the water. “She knows we’d help Ailyth in whatever way we could.”
“So what can we do?” Amarett asked. “Send her out into the unknown?”
The nursemaid-faey scratched her head. “It’s all we can do, for now. I can’t keep her here, but when the danger arrives I’ll do all I can to find out how to defeat it.”
“Will you go with her?”
“I can’t. I’m chained to Topsham and Albion. It’s part of a curse of my own.” She smiled ruefully at this. “But there are some who might be able to watch over her.”
“The rat?”
Heloise nodded. “And others.”
As the birds began their dawn chorus, the squirrel named Amarett returned to his forest home, a little more hopeful than he had been when he left it. There were ways in which they could guide the girl, and protect her to a certain extent, but until the evil manifested itself and they truly knew what they were fighting against the rest would be up to her.
Ailyth woke to find the sunlight streaming through her window and she yawned, forgetting for a moment what had happened the day before. She felt desolate, but she didn’t know why. Perhaps Tristran would be able to tell her. Then she remembered, and her grief began all over again.
“Now, come on you, we got a lot to be doin’ if you’re goin’ to start your journeying afore midday,” Heloise said, and Ailyth got out of bed.
The room was filled with her sisters and their maids, and Ailyth slipped out of the room to use the privy. As she passed the solar, which was to have been used as the wedding suite, she saw a thin, pale-haired figure slip into the hall, and she laughed bitterly to herself. Her husband, it would appear, had not spent the night alone after all. Elfrida had stayed there.
She told Heloise what she had seen when she returned to her room, and the nursemaid had shrugged.
“At least we know he won’t always be pestering you,” she said, before gesturing for the girl to sit down next to her. “Now, we got to get all your belongings packed for the journey.”
“Do we have to?” Ailyth moaned. “Do I have to leave? I’ll miss you and...and this was where I was with Tristran.” She closed her eyes and massaged her temples. He had never actually come into her bedroom, but she would often watch him out of her window as he flew his sparrowhawk into the sky, his pale hair waving in the wind. Tears pricked at her eyelids. “I don’t know if I can leave my memories,” she said.
Heloise’s soul melted in sorrow at this, but she had to make herself seem harsh. “Your memories o’ Tristran will be wherever you are, you goose,” she said, “and you got to go. You’s a married lady now, an’ your place is with your husband.”
Ailyth sighed and she crouched down next to her nurse. “Go on, then,” she managed to say. “What do I need to take?”
Heloise dragged several heavily carved chests out from under the bed and started rummaging through them. “Now, let me see,” she said, “this ‘ere is your embroidery box with all your sewin’ an’ your silks in ‘ere, so that’s got to go with you.”
“Benedicte!” Ailyth cursed, “do I have to keep on sewing? Won’t I have servants to do that?”
“Sewing is a fashionable past-time for ladies, so you’ll sew and you’ll pretend to enjoy it,” Heloise sniffed. “Now, what else we got?”
Heloise busied herself for some time, pulling out dresses and undergarments and muttering, “Yes, you’ll still wear those,” or, “Lord no! Can’t keep these if you’re goin’ to be livin’ in a castle.” After some time she stopped, and looked at the girl. “Are you goin’ to help me or what?” she demanded.
Ailyth mutely pulled a chest towards her and heaved open the lid. “Furs,” she mumbled,” and snapped it shut again. “I suppose I should keep these.”
“Do it properly,” Heloise complained. “Sort out the good ones from the bad ones.”
Ailyth sighed and opened the chest again. Pulling out the furs released moths and a thousand memories. This was the fur she wore the day that Tristran left to travel with her father. This fur was Tristran’s favourite. The next fur was the one that Tristran said made her look like a fat rabbit. Before she knew if, she was crying again.
“Oh, lamb,” Heloise cried, dropping the bundle of clothes in her arms and hugging the girl, “what now?”
“I don’t know what to do, Heloise,” she wept. “I miss him so much, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been so angry with him, he wouldn’t have been wandering around by the moat so late at night.”
“It’s not your fault, my love, you weren’t to know.”
“It is my fault. Now that he’s...dead, I know how unimportant our fight was. I don’t care about the baby or Meg. I wouldn’t even care if he hadn’t loved me, I just want him alive again. Jesu, I have so many regrets!”
“Like what?”
Ailyth looked up into her nursemaid’s face, then quickly looked away. She couldn’t bear to see anger and disappointment shadow her. The thought frightened her. Downcast, she whispered, “A few weeks ago I did...we did...something terrible, and I think that might be why all this has happened. I think we’re being punished by God.”
Heloise’s breath caught in her chest. “What did you do?” she asked.
“It’s too terrible, Heloise, I don’t think I can tell you.”
The nursemaid grabbed Ailyth firmly by the shoulders and looked directly at her. “Tell me,” she said.
Sniffing back a sob, Ailyth nodded. “We were in the woods, that day Tristran came back,” she said. “I don’t know how it happened, but Tristran fell asleep and I got scared and I ran off and found...a white hart. And, we didn’t mean to hurt it, and Tristran didn’t know what we were doing, but we somehow chased it into a bog and it died! And there were these creatures, these little things that kept flying in my face and they scratched me and...and I don’t think they were trying to hurt me and I didn’t feel scared much, but...”
Ailyth closed her eyes with a sick feeling in her stomach, waiting for Heloise to scold her or laugh at her or beat her for the terrible thing that she had done, but no such punishment came. Cautiously she opened one eye, then two. Heloise was no longer in the room; instead there was a young woman with olive skin and dark hair crouched in front of the clothes chest. There was something strangely familiar about those dancing violet eyes.
“You were never meant to see the things that you have seen,” the woman said, pulling another chest from under the bed. “But it’s too late for regrets now, child, what has passed has passed, and I fear that it’s you who will have to save us all.”
The voice... It was different, clearer and accentless, yet still she knew that she had heard it before, when she’d been sleeping, and a thousand times when she had been awake.
“Heloise...?” she asked.
“Yes.”
The floor seemed to swim underneath Ailyth as she took in these words. “No,” she murmured, backing away. “You can’t be one of them, it’s impossible! I’ve known you for eight years, you’re my nursemaid. You’re...you’re meant to tell me that I’m being silly, that faeries don’t exist, or that I dreamed them.” She picked up a pillow and threw it at her. “You’re not meant to be one of them!”
“Yet you’ve seen them yourself, so you know that they’re real. And now I’m here, crouched in front of you in my faey shape, so you must believe that too.”
“No. I’m going mad...the past few days have been difficult and my senses aren’t behaving in the way they should. You’re not really a faey, you’re just...”
“I’m sorry if you’re scared, Ailyth,” Heloise said, “but I had to show you...there are things you have to know.”
All the times that she had been alone with Heloise, the times when the woman had beaten her for misbehaving and cuddled her when she’d had demon-dreams, or fed her spiced milk when she was cold. All of these things crowded Ailyth’s mind as she looked at the strange, earthy woman in front of her.
“You could have killed me at any time!” she said. “You could have poisoned me or cursed me...was it you who killed Tristran? Is it your fault that I’m married to Matthew? I’m going to tell my mother...”
“And she’ll think you’re mad, and you’ll be locked in a tower and we’ll all suffer for it,” Heloise replied.
“She won’t think me mad if she sees you like this!”
Almost before the words had left her mouth, Ailyth could see Heloise change. Her skin grew tight across flabby cheeks and turned an angry, wrinkled red. Her hair curled and greyed and her figure expanded. Ailyth stared at her in shock. “You’re right, I could have killed you, but I didn’t. Why would I want to? I’ve nursed you since you were a child, that hasn’t changed. Ailyth, not all faery folk are bad. Very few of us are. We just want to live our lives, the same way you want to live yours. My name, my real name, is Grethel and I’m the faery link between Albion and Topsham Manor.”
Struggling to take all of this in, Ailyth stared at Heloise. It wasn’t so much that she was a faey, as deep inside she knew that Heloise, despite her often sour temper, had been good to her. It was the fact that she had kept it hidden for so many years that confused her.
“Ailyth! The carriage will leave in just one hour’s time, and if you are not ready by then, then God help you you’ll have to do without your precious things!”
Heloise and Ailyth both glanced at the door, and listened to the heavy footsteps of Lord Unwin fade away.
“We don’t have the time for this,” Heloise muttered. “Ailyth, you must listen to me, it’s of vital importance. I know all about the white hart. I know everything that happened that day.”
The girl looked at her nursemaid, with betrayal written all over her face. “I expect you do, faey,” she said bitterly.
Heloise sighed, labouring to work through Ailyth’s anger at her. “Listen, I said!” she cried, and Ailyth’s ears perked up. This was more like the old Heloise!
“The hart was our protector, the only one that there was, and his death will bring terrible, terrible things to our land.”
Ailyth turned grey as she heard this, and the prickling feeling of guilt in her stomach spread to her heart. “Like what?” she asked.
“Death, chaos, destruction. All can invade us now, without our protector to keep us safe.” Ailyth wobbled slightly. “And it will, child,” Heloise whispered.
“This is my fault, isn’t it,” Ailyth said, tears of shame filling her eyes. “I caused this.”
“No, Ailyth, that isn’t how it is...”
“But it is my fault!” she cried. “I looked back and I shouldn’t have, and Tristran saw the hart... All I had to do was not look back, like the little man told me, and I did. I’ve brought this on us all.”
“But you can turn it right too,” Heloise told her.
Ailyth stopped wailing for a moment. “How?” she asked.
Heloise sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know. It...it will just be bad. Worse than bad. I think you’ll know it, when it happens.”
The manor was so beautiful, with light shining through the thin windows, and Ailyth knew that outside the trees would be heavy with blossom. In the distance she could hear children laughing, and life being lived. How could she have threatened that?
“Whatever I have to do,” she said slowly, “I’ll do it.”
If bad things were to happen she’d probably die anyway, she reasoned. At least if she died trying to save people she’d be able to meet God with a clear conscience. It would be like a crusade! She smiled weakly at the thought. Maybe she’d be given a white horse that shone in the sunlight, and a suit of armour! She might even get to battle a dragon, like Saint George! Her heart sunk a little with that thought. A dragon would probably just eat her up, armour or not. “But I’ll need your help,” she murmured.
Heloise opened the chest that belonged to her, pulled out a fire stone and passed it to Ailyth. “Take this, and keep it safe,” she said. “It’ll make sure that the dark faeys don’t come too close, and there’ll be plenty of those about to try and cause trouble for you. Believe me, they thrive on chaos. And this,” she said, rummaging some more, “this will show you what you need to be shown, when you need to be shown it.”
Ailyth stared at what she had been given, expecting to see a scrying glass or a magic mirror. Instead, what she saw was a small wooden bowl, carved with oak leaves. “Er...Heloise...” she began.
“You fill it with water,” she explained, without looking up. “And this - oh - you must take this - it’ll come in all sorts of use.” She handed Ailyth a willow stick. “There. It’s not as much as I’d like to give, but it will help you. And you’ll need help, child, so use them wisely. There will be people trying to stop you, Ailyth. There might even be those out to harm you.”
“Why?” Ailyth asked. “I...I thought I had to stop evil taking over our land. Who would want to stop me doing that?”
“Evil people, evil creatures... Like attracts like. Not everyone will want to see the bad thing stopped. Some might even encourage it. They live better, when the world is dark and at a loss. They hate man so would want to see them suffer, even if their own are killed in the process. They’ll have their own reasons, so mind you’re careful. Not everyone is good.”
Staring at the few crumbs of magic that she had been given, Ailyth felt her spirits sink. She had hoped for a sword made of moon silver, or a shield made by angels, or that she would be a man. The last things she’d expected were a few scraps from a woodland floor.
“It’s not quite what I was hoping for,” she said slowly.
“There’s more magic in nature than anywhere else,” Heloise said defensively, and Ailyth knew that Heloise was still Heloise, be she faey or woman.
“I hope you’re nearly ready, child,” Lady Eleanor called through the door. “We need to load the carriage shortly.”
Ailyth felt a sudden rush of fear as her mother reminded her that she was about to leave everything that she’d ever known and loved. She glanced desperately at her room, at the walls painted with sapphire and white diamonds. In the centre of each blue diamond was a picture of a white hart. How many times had she whiled away the hours gazing at these walls?
“Don’t make me go,” she begged, flinging her arms around Heloise. “I can’t do this on my own, I need your help.”
“I can’t stop a marriage that’s already happened,” Heloise replied, her face red and puffy. “No, you’ll go and you’ll be all right. You’ll do me proud.”
“But I don’t know what to do! I’ll have no-one to talk to!”
“Oh!” Heloise cried, turning to the cloak that was folded neatly on her lap. “I nearly forgot. I have something else for you...a bit of company when you’ll need it, and he’s charmed too.”
She reached into the folds of the material and pulled out a large black rat. It bristled its whiskers at her.
“What...is...that?” Ailyth said.
“Why, it’s a rat of course, you goose.” She held him out to Ailyth, and she took him from Heloise gingerly. “Something for you to talk to and look after and, like I said, it’s charmed.”
“Heloise,” Ailyth said, “I really don’t like rats.”
“Ah, get on with you, he’ll be something for you to play with when your husband’s busy. He’ll be company for you.”
“Couldn’t you have given me a puppy?” Ailyth asked, wrinkling her nose up at the creature who was grinding his teeth contentedly.
“Stop being silly,” she was told, in all seriousness. “You’d think that you would show a bit more respect for nature, after what’s happened.”
The hart’s frantic eyes flashed into Ailyth’s mind, and she nodded. “All right,” she said finally. “But if it bites me, I’ll drown it.”
Together they packed the rest of Ailyth’s trunks, and called for the servants to load it onto the cart. As they prepared to go, Ailyth could not bring herself to hug her father, the man who had arranged this unwanted marriage, or her mother because of her cruelty. But she was sad to say goodbye to her little brothers and sisters, and could not even look at Heloise as she boarded the carriage, in case she burst into tears and couldn’t stop. She stared out of the carriage windows as it began it’s slow movement away from the manor, saying goodbye to all the places that she had had fun in when she was a child, and the places where Tristran had taken her as a young lady. Elfrida, sitting opposite her, could not meet her new mistress’ eye. What did it matter? Ailyth had nothing left any more.
As the carriage trundled slowly on, a loud shouting started and Ailyth looked out of the window to see Heloise, looking as she always did, thundering breathlessly behind them. As she reached the window the carriage stopped, and Ailyth leaned out and kissed her nursemaid’s cheek.
“When the bad things come, you must return here,” Heloise cried, as though in pain. “Remember that Ailyth. When it comes, no matter what you’re doing you must come home. I might be able to help you with your quest. Promise me!”
“I will,” Ailyth called out as the carriage began to move, and then she ducked back under the covers so that they wouldn’t see each other cry. |
