by Emma Carroll
‘Susannah Spicer, Your Majesty,’ she replied.
‘Spicer, hmmm …’
‘Daughter of my business partner,’ Dr Blood informed him.
The king wafted his hand vaguely. ‘No, no … that’s not who I was thinking of.’
There was muttering. More dagger-sharp glances passing between Dr Blood and Mr Hopkins. I was confused and exhausted and wanting this all to be over. Beside me, Maira let out a huge, fed-up groan.
‘Look, I’ve got a ship to sail. Business to do. So perhaps someone can explain to me why that makes me a witch. What exactly is this all about?’ she asked.
It was me who answered.
‘It’s about fear,’ I said, surprising myself rather.
The king’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Fear?’
Now I’d started, I kept going. ‘There are things, like the sea, that we can’t control. So if we try to blame someone for it, it makes us less scared. And it seems to me that we always pick on the weak ones, the strange ones, the ones who aren’t like us.’
I glanced at Susannah and Jem, at Mother and Abigail. We’d talked about these things between us, in private. We all knew what it felt like to be the person who was singled out.
‘The wave that struck our coast?’ I hurried on. ‘You could blame it on magic or witchcraft. It helps to have a reason, because then you can try to stop it happening again.’
‘I’ve heard enough of this drivel,’ Dr Blood insisted. ‘Guards! Resume the trial!’
And I’d had enough of this nasty little man, of being cold and terrified. My temper was on the rise.
‘Mr Spicer’s son told me all about your business dealings, and what you were after,’ I said to him.
‘You dared to speak of my business to Master Spicer?’ Dr Blood was stunned. ‘As if it were any concern of yours?’
‘Oh, but it is, sir,’ I insisted. ‘My life may be of little value to you, but it is to me. Because of your plans I’m on trial for something I’m innocent of.’
‘Wait,’ the king interrupted. ‘What plans?’
I answered first: ‘Your navy, Your Majesty. Mr Spicer and Dr Blood wanted your protection – that’s what Ellis told me. They knew their cargo was risky. In truth, they probably knew it was wrong. But they needed your naval ships to protect them from attack.’
‘She’s lying,’ Dr Blood cut in. ‘Yet again.’
‘This whole witch trial, Your Majesty,’ I spoke over him, ‘is their way of impressing you and getting you to support their business. It’s never been about evil.’
‘Seize her! Take her to the flood again! Take both of these witches!’ Dr Blood cried.
I braced myself for the soldiers’ crushing grip on my arms. But they didn’t move. No one was looking at us any more. They were nudging each other, pointing at Dr Blood.
‘Ellis, you say? Ellis Spicer?’ the king asked, sitting forward in his seat. ‘The Ellis Spicer?’
It threw me completely. I looked to Susannah, who was hanging on the king’s every word.
‘Ummm … yes,’ I said, without thinking. ‘The acrobat.’
The king’s face changed. For one fear-filled moment, I was sure I’d said a terrible thing, and not only was my own fate sealed but Ellis’s too, wherever he might be. But the king slapped his knees heartily and laughed out loud.
‘Ha! Ellis Spicer! Would you believe such a thing?’ he cried.
‘No, Your Majesty,’ I replied, not having a clue what he meant. I glanced at Susannah, who shrugged helplessly.
‘Do you know that I met this very fellow just a couple of days ago? He entertained me, he and his troupe, on the evening we broke our travel. And what a marvellous performance it was.’
I stared at the king. ‘You saw him? Alive? Ellis Spicer?’
‘Of course. The young man introduced himself by name. I’ve plans to invite him to the palace for our Easter festivities.’
‘Oh, thank goodness!’ I gasped. ‘This is very fine news indeed.’ Susannah burst into tears.
I was thrilled that Ellis was alive, truly I was. I wasn’t sure if it was enough to save Maira and me, though there was no denying that the mood had changed again.
The king was now eyeing Dr Blood with disdain.
‘If what the child says is true then you have duped me, Blood,’ he said. ‘You have enticed me here to Somerset, not to see justice being done, but to further your own ends.’
‘You cannot believe her,’ Dr Blood insisted, very flustered. ‘The girl is evil.’
‘The only evil I’ve seen here in Somerset has come from witch hunters,’ I retorted.
Now it was Mr Hopkins who turned on Dr Blood.
‘I took on this case in good faith,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I shall send my bill directly. Now if someone could bring me my horse, I’ll be on my way.’
‘But Mr Hopkins, Your Majesty—’ Dr Blood spluttered.
‘Enough of this. You’re a good dentist, Blood, but a terrible businessman. Think again on your cargo. Exploration is my new investment. I’ve sent that Raleigh fellow to South America in search of gold. You’d be wise invest in something similar.’
Dr Blood dropped his head in defeat. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’
‘And for heaven’s sake leave the Spicer family and their acquaintances ALONE!’
*
So it was, like a deck of cards, the trial fell to pieces. And I, for the second time, was saved. It wasn’t all over though, until King James had absolved me of guilt. I was made to stand in front of him, looking suitably meek. It wasn’t hard to do, either, when I trembled from head to foot with cold. Susannah was struggling to hold Bea, who wanted to get to Jem, get to Mother’s plaits, get to the king’s buckled shoes.
The very second my innocence was declared, Bea lunged for the king’s hand. She’d seen his giant emerald ring and wanted to grab it.
‘I’m sorry.’ Susannah blushed, trying to pull her away. ‘But you saw my brother – where?’
‘In a town somewhere miles from here,’ the king said, vague again. ‘Dorset? Devon, maybe?’
Susannah tried to press him but he didn’t seem to remember, or perhaps he was too taken with Bea.
‘So this little cherub is Ellis Spicer’s sister, eh?’ He chucked her under the chin. ‘Do you know what a funny, brilliant entertainer your brother is, do you?’
‘EEEwwwooo,’ Bea replied.
Meanwhile, I was dying to ask what had happened to Susannah’s crewel-work piece, since no one had mentioned it at the trial. I waited until the fuss had died down. ‘Your Majesty, what did you think of the crewel work Dr Blood showed you?’
‘Mistress Spicer’s design?’
I nodded.
‘Well, she has a talent, that can’t be denied. The queen will admire it greatly, though it wasn’t really to my taste.’
‘You didn’t like it?’
‘I prefer a scene or a picture I can recognise. This piece was rather too elaborate and certainly didn’t prove anything, not to my eyes.’
So the king had looked at the piece and seen only patterns: not an enormous wave or a boy with a yellow feather in his cap running away from the sea. He’d seen what he wanted to see, and passed judgement. How familiar that sounded! If I never saw a needle and thread ever again, I decided, it would still be far too soon.
*
When his carriage was finally summoned, the king seemed almost sorry to go.
‘After an unpromising start,’ he said, ‘that was one of the most theatrical witch trials I’ve ever seen.’
‘Theatrical?’ Maira caught my eye.
‘Indeed.’ He stared into the middle distance. ‘In the words of our wonderful playwright, all the world is a stage, and all the men and women merely players.’
Maira spluttered. Bea crammed her fingers into her mouth and pulled a face. Jem walked away.
I was glad, of all of us, it was Ellis who’d chosen to be a player on the world’s stage. Though I’d a strong suspicion this wasn
’t what the king meant; a part of him still seemed to believe that witch trials and entertainment were more or less the same thing.
VI
IN WHICH FORTUNE DISCOVERS WHERE SHE BELONGS
33
For any sensible person, that would’ve been it: enough adventure, enough danger, enough of the sea to last a lifetime. And when I first returned home to Fair Maidens Lane, I did feel that way. Around our house, our church, our chicken shed, the floodwater was still ankle-deep, and pooled muddily in the lane from the crossroads. Our hamlet had become a little island, a haven from the world. We were maidens who could look after ourselves, and wanted to be left alone to do so. The king’s absolution helped with that: nowadays our landowning neighbours kept a respectful distance.
Every day I expected Susannah and Bea to take off in search of Ellis. Now she knew he’d survived I was sure she’d want to be reunited, and I wanted that for them too, though I’d be heartbroken to lose them. Yet when I got up the courage to ask, all Susannah said was, ‘He’s happy, and so am I. I’ll find him one day, when he wants to be found.’
*
One fine spring evening, Maira came calling just as we were sitting down to eat. Jem pulled up an extra chair, Abigail stared with her mouth open, and Mother insisted she stay for one of her special meat pies.
‘We are sailing from Withy Cove in a couple of weeks,’ Maira explained. ‘The boat repairs took longer than we thought. And we can’t move it, either. Seems we have need of your horse after all.’
It felt like a lifetime ago that she’d asked me to join her crew. Now, with her sitting at our supper table, the appeal of it began to nudge at me again.
‘May we borrow Blaze to pull the boat down to the sea?’ she asked. ‘She’s a big strong brute, isn’t she?’
‘She is,’ Susannah agreed. ‘And you’d be welcome to her, if that’s all right with everyone?’
We all said it was.
‘You’ll need Susannah too, then. That horse dotes on her,’ Jem said proudly.
And I was pretty sure he winked at Susannah, though it was hard to be certain with Mother and Abigail moving between us as they handed out plates of pie and spring greens.
‘And how are you, Fortune, the girl who doesn’t drown?’ Maira asked.
With all eyes were on me, I felt myself redden.
‘Thanks to Jem,’ I said. ‘He’s the one who pulled me out.’
‘Hmmm. I’m sure the caul played a part in it too.’
Abigail took her seat. ‘What caul?’
Maira chewed for a moment, head on one side, then gestured at Abigail with her knife. ‘Do you know Fortune’s blessed?’
‘Blessed?’ My sister laughed. ‘What, old fleabag here?’
I scowled at her, but Maira convinced her it was true. ‘And,’ she pointed out, ‘when the person’s in danger, their caul becomes wet. That’s what happened with yours, Fortune.’
She explained how Jem had come running across the meadow with news of my arrest. At first he’d been so shaken and breathless they’d had trouble understanding what had happened – and he was sweating too, all down his left side. Then, in my jacket pocket, they’d discovered the caul, so wet it had soaked through into his shirt.
‘We’d swapped clothes at the town hall, hadn’t we?’ Jem reminded me.
It was a lot to think about. Susannah and her sewing, my caul: both had been signs that bad things were going to happen, and much as I’d wanted to play them down, they had proved to be right. Bad things did happen.
‘I still don’t think that makes any of us witches,’ I pointed out.
‘Witches are simply strong women, that’s what you once told me,’ said Susannah. ‘You said everyone has a little strangeness in them, and that some things just can’t be explained.’
‘Some of us more than others,’ Jem said, giving me a pointed look. ‘No wonder you love the sea so much, sister. And I didn’t, not at first.’
Maira laughed. Then, shovelling the last of her pie into her mouth, she stood up. With her long hair tucked inside her coat collar, she could easily have been mistaken for a handsome boy.
‘Thank you for supper,’ she said, making for the door.
Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, ‘Can’t I come with you?’
‘Fortune!’ Jem looked horrified.
‘But I think maybe I’d like to,’ I confessed. A table of stunned faces stared back at me. ‘Maira asked me to join her ship a while ago, and I’ve given it some thought.’
Maira sighed, twirling her hat in her hands. ‘Give it some more thought, then. You’ve been through a lot, Fortune. You need time to heal and recover.’
‘But I’m fine,’ I protested.
Mother squeezed my shoulder gently. ‘She’s right, love. Give yourself a little time.’
‘Come by with the horse in a couple of weeks when you’ve rested,’ Maira said. ‘Bring Susannah and Jem too. If you’re not fit to sail, I might have something to offer them.’
*
Once she’d gone, I huffed a bit to Jem. ‘If I can’t go then you’re certainly not. That wouldn’t be fair.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jem insisted. ‘You won’t get me on a boat again, not in a hundred years.’
I told him he was a sparrow-brain. He flicked my ear. Of all the challenges being a sailor would bring, leaving him would be the hardest.
*
Soon after this, Susannah and I struck a deal: she’d take Ellen’s gowns back to Glastonbury – I still couldn’t face the place – if I’d teach her to swim. So twice a day, in the mild spring sunshine, we trooped down to the beach. Jem tagged along, insisting he’d look after Bea, who was now taking her first wobbIy steps. I wasn’t fooled. Since that time at the supper table, he and Susannah had been sharing quite a few looks. It was no surprise that Abigail had noticed too.
‘I wish they didn’t have to be so soppy,’ I muttered as we watched them feeding the chickens together one morning. ‘Doesn’t it make you feel slightly sick?’
‘I think it’s lovely.’ Abigail sighed. ‘Jem deserves a good wife.’
‘Wife?’ I was reminded of what I’d thought of Susannah when I first met her – neat, demure, quiet.
‘Don’t be fooled by what she looks like,’ I said. ‘There are lots of ways to be a strong woman – Susannah’s taught me that. It’s not all about breeches, you know.’
Abigail laughed.
*
Meanwhile, we kept up with the swimming lessons. The first time I’d gone down to my beloved beach, I’d been horrified to see the damage that the floods had caused. Boulders that’d once lain down at the tideline were now strewn across the fields like toadstools. The gentle curve of the cliff looked jagged, bitten away at, and the slope of the shingle was so steep we almost had to scramble on our backsides to reach the water’s edge.
Susannah was a very fast learner. Within days of living with us she could build a decent fire, bake bread, catch a chicken for the pot. The swimming took longer to master. She still didn’t entirely trust the sea, and for that I didn’t blame her: it had turned our lives upside down.
After a fair bit of splashing and spluttering, and telling me to stop being so strict, the day arrived when Susannah swam her first few strokes. It was the perfect doggy-paddle, and the delight on her face was priceless.
‘Watch me again, Fortune!’ she cried.
Jem ran home to fetch Mother and Abigail so they could see for themselves. By the time he returned with them, Susannah was swimming on her back and laughing. Mother, who’d taken to Susannah like another daughter, pushed a stray lock of hair off my face.
‘You’re a special one, Fortune, you know that, don’t you?’ she said.
I blinked, smiled, felt suddenly warm. But I also knew how fine the line was between ‘special’ and ‘strange’. One person’s beloved daughter could be another person’s witch, and fear made people’s attitudes change in the blink of an eye. Even the king himself didn’t seem
to understand it. We did, and we wouldn’t ever forget it.
34
With every passing day the water dropped further, until the last of it was swept out of our yard and everything began to dry out. There were changes – little ones at first, like putting chairs back in different places or deciding the kitchen was better without rush matting on the floor. Abigail climbed the church roof and took in the prayer books. Those crispy, crinkled pages would serve as a reminder, people said, of things mankind couldn’t control.
Then new people moved in to Old Margaret’s cottage. They were a family called the Fitzpatricks, whose home on the outskirts of town had been flattened by the flood. There were ten of them, a mother and father and eight children. Overnight our little hamlet doubled in size. Jem wasn’t the only young man any more, which I think made him relieved. It also gave Abigail something new to gossip about, although judging by her daft behaviour around the Fitzpatricks’ eldest son, Tom, the talk would soon be about her.
*
On the first Tuesday of Lent, we took Blaze and as many ropes as we could muster to Withy Cove. It was a bright, breezy day, the snowdrops going over and primroses beginning to take their place. The time I’d taken to rest and recover had only strengthened my desire to go to sea. Now, at last, that day had arrived and I’d made up my mind. If Maira would have me, I was going. My family and friends still weren’t overly keen, but they were kind enough not to stand in my way.
In the sack over my shoulder was my one clean shirt, a small pebble from our beach, and Mother’s lucky little parcel. Jem was on one side of me, whistling. On the other, Susannah and Bea. I felt, in that moment, complete.
An awful lot had happened since I’d last seen the Songbird. The sight of it, lying on its side in the meadow, made me feel a bit overwhelmed.
‘That’s a small boat,’ Jem muttered to me. ‘You’re not really crossing the ocean in it, are you?’
