Dreamer's Pool

by Juliet Marillier

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  Donagan arrived just as the three of them were being ushered in, and suddenly my council chamber – not, in fact, used for formal councils, but for writing, thinking and occasionally meeting with visitors – was quite full. That was very much down to Grim, who seemed to take up the space of at least three ordinary men. Blackthorn, a woman with oddly cropped hair of a startling red, had an intensity about her like that of a wild creature caged. I had never encountered a person with such blazing eyes or such a tightly held body. She was thin as a lath and not especially tall, with a tooth missing and a face that wore its years hard. But from the moment she walked in she filled the place with her presence. Between the two of them was the girl Aedan had mentioned. I recognised her as the young sister of Fraoch the smith, but I could not recall her name. She looked as if she had been crying.

  ‘Sit down, please.’ I motioned to the bench opposite me, but none of them sat. ‘You are Mistress Blackthorn, I presume. Grim I have already met. And . . .’

  ‘Emer,’ Blackthorn said. ‘She helps me in my work sometimes. My lord.’ There was a criticism in her tone; she expected the prince of Dalriada to know his people’s names. I did, mostly.

  ‘Thank you, Mistress Blackthorn. I understand there’s been some trouble at Silverlake. What has happened?’

  ‘Trouble,’ growled Grim. ‘You could call it trouble. I might have another word for it, a stronger one.’

  ‘It’s all right, Grim,’ Blackthorn said. ‘We’d best tell the story.’

  The three of them told it together, and a terrible and violent tale it was. The baker, Branoc, abducting the miller’s daughter and keeping her locked up for his pleasure over several turnings of the moon; the strange death of the miller on the same night his daughter was taken, perhaps not the accident everyone believed after all; Emer, the loyal friend, pleading with folk to believe her when she refused to accept that Ness must have run away with her traveller boy and her father’s savings. The truth made a bizarre and unlikely story, and it was easy to understand why so many folk had long accepted the most plausible explanation. But Emer had never believed the loyal daughter would have abandoned her widowed father.

  It had been Blackthorn and Grim who’d worked out the truth, by piecing together a collection of clues nobody else had understood. And yesterday, the two of them had gone up to the baker’s loft and found the girl abused, half-starved and filthy, but alive. Too scared to call for help; chained up so she could not escape. With a whole village of folk only a short ride away, blind to the shocking truth. No wonder Blackthorn was angry.

  ‘Where is the young woman now?’ I asked, finding it somewhat confronting to hold the wise woman’s gaze. I was the prince of Dalriada and leader of this district; that made this appalling incident my responsibility.

  ‘Being tended to in Silverlake,’ Blackthorn said. ‘She can’t be moved yet. There’s a kindly couple there who are happy to house her for now.’ Her lip curled, and again I heard the unspoken message: Now they know she’s a good girl, not a runaway. ‘Ness has some injuries. I’ll deal with those. And she needs rest, quiet.’ She glanced at Emer. ‘She won’t be her old self again anytime soon. Perhaps never.’

  ‘Ness will come to us when she’s well enough to be moved,’ said the girl. ‘My mam says it’s all right for her to stay. When we’re done here I’m going over to Silverlake to help look after her.’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘You’ve done well, all of you. What I cannot understand is why you tackled this yourselves, just the two of you.’ It seemed Blackthorn and Grim had ridden up there to confront Branoc without any backup at all, knowing the girl might be a prisoner in his barn, and suspecting the baker might have killed her father. According to Emer, Branoc had had an eye for Ness long before this happened, but Ernan had refused to consider him as a suitor for his daughter. Ness had never thought of Branoc as a possible husband; her affections were all for her traveller lad, Abhan. Who was now very likely on the road with the rest of his folk and heading our way, knowing nothing at all of this. ‘Why didn’t you bring it to me, ask for my help? We could have sent men-at-arms. We could have apprehended Branoc instead of letting him escape. Why didn’t you raise it at the council, or when I came to the village?’

  The look in Blackthorn’s eyes might have withered me where I stood. ‘Grim and I didn’t put the pieces together until yesterday,’ she said, not bothering with my lord or Prince Oran at all. ‘And we didn’t know if we were right until we got there and Grim found Ness hidden in the barn. As for Emer, she’s young, and speaking up before a lot of men can take courage. You wouldn’t understand that, perhaps. As it was, Emer didn’t know what had happened until Grim and I rode back to Winterfalls this morning. I spent the night in Silverlake getting Ness settled, patching up her injuries, talking to the local folk. Grim spent it on guard up at Branoc’s place in case he came back to fetch anything. We’ve come straight here; we only stopped to pick up Emer and let her know her friend’s safe. But don’t forget, Emer’s been trying to convince folk there was something wrong ever since Ness disappeared. Over and over. Nobody believed her. Everyone dismissed her concerns. Easier for them to believe Ness had gone to the bad. Meant they could simply forget her, put her out of their minds. Emer was hardly going to come knocking on your door and demand to be heard, was she?’

  ‘Emer,’ I said, addressing myself to the girl and keeping my voice gentle, ‘you are a good and loyal friend. If you found it difficult to bring this to my attention, you could have raised it with Lady Flidais. That is why she and I visit the village from time to time; to make it easier for people to speak out, if the councils are too overwhelming.’

  Emer looked me in the eye, and I saw on her young face an echo of Blackthorn’s fury. ‘I did tell Lady Flidais about Ness going missing, my lord. Yesterday morning when she came to the weaver’s to talk to us. I told her the same story I told everyone, that Ness was a good daughter and wouldn’t run away or thieve from her dad; she loved him. Lady Flidais said that when I got a bit older I wouldn’t be so trusting, and that girls like Ness made their own beds. And the others laughed.’

  Donagan had folded his arms and was staring out the window. I struggled for the right words; there was enough anger in this room already without my adding to it.

  ‘Then I owe you an apology, Emer,’ I said. ‘And to Blackthorn and Grim we all owe a great debt. The two of you took quite a risk.’

  ‘Sorry we let Branoc go.’ Grim spoke, not looking at me but down at the floor. ‘Would have liked to wring his neck, the bastard. Too quick for me. Be miles away by now. Took a rope, never used it. Girl had to come first.’

  ‘I understand that, Grim. You have all done your best, and a remarkable best it was. Yes, I suppose we will never apprehend Branoc now, though I will send men out to look for him.’

  ‘He’ll be off to the nearest anchorage and taking ship for Armorica, that’s my guess,’ said Donagan. ‘Leaving Silverlake with neither miller nor baker. Though that is hardly of importance, beside this. You believe Ernan’s death might be Branoc’s doing too? And the theft of his savings?’

  ‘I can’t see how a miller crushes himself with his own grindstone,’ Blackthorn said. ‘No matter how upset he is. No matter how much his wits aren’t on the job. His work would be so familiar he’d be able to do it in his sleep. And who was the likeliest to guess where his daughter might really have gone? He knew Branoc fancied Ness and had been told he couldn’t have her.’

  ‘This is a matter for the next open council,’ I said. ‘I’ll ensure Ernan’s death is investigated further before then. If Branoc is apprehended, he will be called to account for his treatment of Ness, and he will be questioned on the matter of the miller’s demise. Even if he cannot be tracked down, there’s the future of mill and bakery to be considered, and compensation for the young lady.’

  ‘You won’t expect Ness to come to th
e council, will you, my lord?’ asked Emer. ‘Mistress Blackthorn says she didn’t even know her father was dead; they had to tell her last night.’

  ‘I understand that, and of course she must be given time to recover. I offer you all my personal thanks. I’ll arrange a search for Branoc immediately, and guards at the bakery. Blackthorn, if any further assistance is needed, don’t hesitate to ask – Donagan will help you, or speak to Aedan, my steward. It seems the young lady may now be without any family support. We must ensure that she is properly provided for.’

  Blackthorn said nothing, but I saw a question in her eyes: We?

  ‘This is an illustration to all of us, to the whole community, that we should take responsibility for each other. And it begins with me.’ And with Flidais, I thought, but I did not say it. ‘Now I’ll let you go to some well-earned rest. Emer, you are going over to Silverlake this morning, you said? How will you get there?’

  ‘My brother’s taking me over on his cart, my lord.’

  ‘Good. I hope Ness is improving.’

  ‘Long road ahead,’ Grim said, surprising me. ‘When you’re hurt as bad as that. Wish we’d worked it out sooner.’

  ‘You saved her,’ I said. ‘Don’t lose sight of that.’

  Donagan ushered them out. I sent for Lochlan, my head guard, and set the situation before him, knowing he could be trusted to arrange protection for Branoc’s premises and men to conduct an orderly search of the district. I sent for Aedan, and asked him to ensure those who cared for Ness had the wherewithal to provide for her through what might be a lengthy recovery. I had not asked Blackthorn if the abused girl was with child; I hoped very much that she was not. I called Brid and asked her to spread word that the Silverlake bakery would not be in business for the foreseeable future. There would be more work for Deaman and his assistants.

  When that was done, all I wanted was to escape out of doors, stride around the farm and work off the confusion of feelings that had come over me when Blackthorn told the story. At first, disbelief. Then horror. Then fury that any man would do so base a thing. Then guilt, that I had not known; that of my whole community, the folk whose leader and exemplar I was supposed to be, only Emer, a girl of fifteen or so, had stood up for her friend and refused to be silenced. Even Flidais had dismissed her concerns. Flidais, who would one day be queen.

  And because I would one day be king, I did not head out across the fields, but went to find her.

  ‘Flidais. A word with you in private.’

  I had broken a household rule and come right into the women’s quarters to find my betrothed. The attendants laid aside their embroidery and vanished away like mist under morning sun, leaving the two of us alone in the chamber where they had been gathered. Aunt Sochla hesitated in the doorway; Bramble waited by her skirts. I’d have liked my aunt to stay. With her present, Flidais would not be able to end an awkward conversation by twining herself around me and inviting me to intimacy. That did often seem to be her solution to a disagreement. But what I had to say was best not shared with anyone else.

  ‘Thank you, Aunt,’ I said. ‘I’m sure Bramble would like a stroll in the garden.’

  ‘As would I. My eyes are getting too old for fine work. Come, dog!’

  I waited until the door closed behind her before moving over to the table where Flidais was standing. She had her embroidery clutched against her breast as if she were a child expecting a reprimand; did I really look so angry? The sun through the tall windows bathed my betrothed in soft autumn light. Her gown was red, her lips redder; her skin was smooth and perfect. Her long-lashed eyes regarded me with such trepidation that a small part of me was tempted to enfold her in an embrace and suggest the two of us might start again, forgetting what was past. I hardened my heart.

  ‘Sit down, please,’ I said, indicating the bench near her. ‘I have a serious matter to discuss with you.’

  ‘Oh dear, Oran.’ She sat, still holding her handiwork. ‘You look so solemn. Not the tiniest smile for me today?’

  I ignored this blatant attempt to placate me. ‘Flidais, at your parents’ home, did you assist your mother with resolving difficulties in the household, or in the settlements within your father’s territory? Did she explain to you the purpose of audiences and councils? Did she teach you how important it is for us, as leaders, to be open to the problems faced by our people?’

  Flidais drew her needle from the fabric and applied herself to stitchery. Her hands were shaking visibly.

  ‘Flidais?’

  ‘That is a lot of questions, Oran. Have I done something wrong again? Please say I haven’t.’ She looked up, turning the full power of her beautiful eyes on me.

  ‘When we rode into Winterfalls you went to the weaver’s workshop with the village women and spent some time talking to them. Did a young woman named Emer speak to you about her friend who had gone missing? The miller’s daughter from Silverlake?’

  A delicate frown creased Flidais’s brow. ‘A miller’s daughter? I don’t believe so, Oran. I recall nothing of that kind. Why do you ask?’

  I had thought she might have a ready reason for dismissing Emer’s plea. I had thought she might be apologetic and promise to do better next time. I had not expected her to deny this outright.

  ‘I’ve just had a visit from the healer, Mistress Blackthorn, along with her man and the young woman I mentioned.’ I gave her the story as a straightforward account, taking care not to sound accusatory, for after all, it was not she who had abducted Ness, nor had she been alone in discounting Emer’s concerns.

  ‘I don’t remember anything like that,’ Flidais said when I was done. ‘She must have made a mistake; forgotten to tell me. What a terrible story, Oran! We must make sure this girl, the one who was imprisoned, is well looked after now. I suppose, after what has happened, her traveller sweetheart will no longer want her. She will be viewed as spoiled goods.’

  I swallowed a fresh surge of anger, though quite possibly this was true. ‘You say Emer did not seek your counsel on this matter. I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Oran!’ The big blue eyes were full of reproach, the delicate lips pouting. ‘How can you say such a thing?’

  ‘More easily than I expected,’ I said. ‘It can be put to the test; all I need do is ask some of the other women who were present at the time. It seems many folk in both Winterfalls and Silverlake disregarded Emer’s plea, as you did, and because of that Ness was chained and beaten and abused for far longer than she would have been had her friend’s arguments been taken seriously from the first.’

  Flidais stabbed the needle into the linen, then cursed under her breath. A drop of blood stained the cloth.

  ‘If you are to be my wife, if you are one day to be queen, you must learn what is expected of you. You must learn that such a life is not only one of privilege, but also one of service and responsibility. We must be open to those under our governance, Flidais; we must be ready to help when they need us. I am certain your mother and father do that for the folk of Cloud Hill, and did so as you were growing up.’ I noticed that she had gone very pale. Had she understood the seriousness of her oversight at last?

  ‘You said if. If you are to be my wife. What do you mean?’

  I longed to speak honestly. I was becoming ever surer that I had made a mistake; that if she and I had to live out our lives together we would both be utterly miserable. I could feel the words on the tip of my tongue.

  But we were already betrothed; the ceremony had taken place. And we had lain together, she and I. Flidais might even now be with child. What we had done, there was no undoing. And now there could be no going back.

  ‘I meant nothing by it,’ I said. ‘I want you to try a little harder, that is all. Try to take an interest in the affairs of the local people; make sure you give them due respect when they bring their problems to you. Listen with intelligence.’

  Now she was rea
lly insulted. ‘Are you telling me I am not only a liar, but also a fool?’

  ‘In this matter, it seems you have, at the very least, been guilty of prejudice.’ I struggled to keep my tone even.

  Flidais had hunched her shoulders; her head was bent over her embroidery. A man would need a heart of stone not to want to say, Sorry, of course I did not mean it, and to comfort her with an embrace. It seemed that although my mother thought me soft, I was developing just such a heart.

  ‘That is all I have to say to you. You might consider visiting the women of both villages before the open council, and in Emer’s case I think an apology would be in order.’

  ‘An apology? To a village girl? You cannot be serious.’

  ‘Oh, I am. I have apologised to her already, on my own behalf and on behalf of the community.’ I got up and went to the door. ‘Ask Donagan to arrange a visit for you,’ I added. ‘You might take Aunt Sochla next time; as the queen’s sister, she has a very sound idea of what is expected.’

  ‘Donagan?’ Flidais’s tone was so furious that against my better judgement I turned. Her cheeks were stained with angry red. ‘I suppose this is all his doing! He didn’t care for me from the first, and now someone’s been spying on me and reported it back to him, otherwise you’d never accuse me in this way. How dare you treat me like some sort of – of serving woman? I am to be your wife!’

  ‘This is nothing to do with Donagan, Flidais. But since you mention him, I will tell you this: he is my friend and companion, far more than a body servant, and he answers only to me. Managing a household seems as new to you as dealing with a community. As my future wife, it is indeed your responsibility to govern the serving folk in this house. I will expect you to do so with the blend of kindness, trust and common sense that they have long been accustomed to. If any decisions cause you difficulty, bring them to me. I am willing to help you, indeed eager to do so. Of course you will make errors; we all do. But you must learn from your mistakes. Learn quickly, and when you get something wrong, admit it and apologise.’