by Jacky Gray
‘Sorry, I thought it might help.’
‘If we worked together for a while we might be able to combine the flows, but I’m afraid we don’t have time today. We’ll just give it a minute to settle down.’
‘Do I need to ground it out?’
‘No, just calm your mind; that will be quickest. So if you can raise the energy, why don’t you use it to help yourself heal?’
‘I can do that? I thought it could only be used to heal others.’
‘Not at all. Watch what I do, and when you have raised your energy, direct it at the part which needs to be healed. But the most important part is the intention. You must imagine the leg is healed and functioning perfectly.’
Apart from the gentle warmth and a slight tingling sensation, he didn’t feel very much during the treatment; her hands did not even touch the leg of his breeches. Before she left, Petronella asked if he would mind if she sent some healing energy every night at sunset.
‘Surely you will be too busy with the children to come round here, especially at sunset; the family will be eating.’
‘But I don’t need to be here; I can send it directly to you. I would suggest that if you’re standing up at the time, you sit down when the tingling starts, and rest your leg for half an hour to give it the best chance.’
‘You can do that? How does the energy …’
Shrugging her shoulders, she smiled apologetically. ‘I don’t question it, I just know it works. But I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.’
‘No, I’d be grateful; I can’t bear the thought of another six weeks before I can walk.’
‘If you do as I say, it won’t be; I promise you.’
16 Carterson
Three days later, Siany had still not appeared, but he strove not to be more of a burden to his hosts without her care. Tol measured him up for a walking stick to help him move about, but Janna insisted he wear the heavy leg brace all the time. He made a token protest because he was used to taking the awkward thing off while in his wheeled chair.
‘Either you wear it, or you don’t walk with the stick.’
‘But it takes so long to buckle all the straps.’
‘Janna’s right. You shouldn’t take the risk of anything going wrong; it would be so much worse next time.’
He gave in quickly. Anything was better than having to rely on other people whenever he wanted to nip outside to soak up a few rays of cool November sunshine or even just to reach up and get something from a high shelf.
Impressed with his responsible attitude, Janna decided they would go to visit her friend on Thorsday as planned.
‘We were going to give it a miss, but her baby is due at Yule and we promised to go and help her prepare the nursery.’
‘That will be nice. I’ll be fine. I can read this book you got me from the librarie.’
‘It might be a little more difficult than Siany’s stories because it’s written for adults.’
‘Stop fussing Janna. The lad is more than able to cope; he’s better than us at some of them long words in the weather book.’
Grinning at the memory of Tol’s words, Geraint decided it was time for a cup of tea and one of Janna’s delicious oatmeal and apple cakes. While the water boiled, he did some healing, delighting in the ease with which he could raise the energy and the warmth which flowed from his hand to the damaged limb. He’d just sat down again when he heard a light tapping at the front door.
Cursing under his breath, he figured the visitor wanted to talk to Tol or Janna. Since they were both out, he wouldn’t bother disturbing himself merely to tell a stranger they were out of luck. The knocking stopped and he decided they’d given up. The shock of Siany appearing in front of him made him jump, spilling his tea over his leg.
‘Ow, what did you do that for?’
‘Sorry. Here, let me get a cloth and clear it up.’
Scalding hot tea burnt through the cloth of his breeches, so he had no choice but to take them off as quickly as possible.
After helping him with the buckles on his brace, Siany pulled the soaking garment carefully over the injured limb, then dashed to his room to get a clean pair.
His cheeks flaming with embarrassment at the intimacy of the task, Geraint sent thanks for her discretion. While he shrugged into the dry breeches, Siany made a fresh pot of tea, bringing two steaming mugs over to the couch.
‘Your leg seems to be healing well.’
‘So you thought you’d set it back a few weeks with a nasty burn.’
‘Never. It was a complete accident. I’m really sorry.’
‘I know. I’m only teasing.’ His smile showed the real story of how pleased he was to see her. ‘How are you?’
‘Very well, thank you.’ Her eyes rose heavenward and, as they returned, she tried to disguise the matching smile. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t …’
‘Where have you b …’ they both spoke together and he broke off to allow her to explain.
‘We went down to Maidstone to stay with my Aunt and celebrate Samhain with her.’
‘But that’s at least three days’ travel.’
‘Each way. It gets boring, but the carriage was really comfortable. Father hired one from a carter and his son drove us there and back.’
‘Surely he didn’t drive the horses all that way.’
‘That would be silly. Carterson picked up fresh horses at coaching inns each day.’
‘What colour hair did he have?’
‘Who?’
‘This carter’s son.’
‘Sandy. What a strange question.’
‘Old or young?’
‘Not long into his majority. Why do you ask?’
‘Just that when you talk about him you blush so much I could almost cook the broth off those cheeks. I think you spent a lot of time watching him.’
Siany’s look suggested she knew the game and wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of playing along. ‘I said he was much older than me. I noticed his sandy hair because it was the same colour as Father’s.’
‘Then you gazed into his lovely brown eyes.’
‘Blue. But enough about him.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with fancying a boy almost twice your age.’
‘He’s only seven years older, nowhere near twice. I thought you were better at numbering than that.’ Siany gave as good as she got.
‘You must have talked to him for a while if you know his age.’
‘Nothing will make me say I like you more than him.’ Her abrupt gesture knocked over a pile of papers and the sampler floated to the floor. Picking it up, she remarked on the lovely writing and complimented him on his progress in her absence.
‘I got on a lot better without you slowing me down with these tales about your fancy man.’ His eyes twinkled, but she’d reached her limit.
‘Right, I’ve had enough. I’m never coming back again in spite of what Father said.’ Her voice held more exasperation than anger as she gathered her things.
‘What did he say? You must never see the worthless bohemian again?’ Geraint wasn’t proud of his bitter tone, but it made her pause.
‘Not at all. Why would you think that?’
‘Because … oh never mind. What did he say, then?’
‘No, you first. What could have made you think he didn’t like you? I’ve never seen him be so civil to any friends I’ve brought home before. He’s normally rude to them.’
‘That wasn’t him being rude? Calling me a bohemian and talking about my people?’
‘Goodness me, no.’ She sat back down, touching his arm in reassurance. ‘I heard him telling mother he wished some of the boys at school were half as well-mannered and perceptive as you were.’
‘That’s the second time someone’s called me perceptive. What does it mean?’
She thought for a moment. ‘Able to see things clearly. It’s a big complement for a child.’
‘Your father thinks I’m well-mannered? So why didn’t you come for the pa
st two days? You must have been back that long.’
‘Three actually. Because of my Aunt. She told my parents about some fierce Renegates terrorising the Kent coast, causing all manner of problems.’
Geraint frowned – this triggered a vague memory.
Siany continued her explanation. ‘She was horrified about me walking here, but I told her there were no tribes nearby. Then Father learnt about a band roaming the area and said I shouldn’t cross the bridge on my own.’ She blushed at the implication of her words. ‘I’m sorry; I know they are your people. I didn’t mean any offence.’
Her expression showed pure dismay as worry darkened his face. The silence stretched into a tangible force which plucked at his heart with icy fingers.
She’d obviously been affected by his reaction; when she spoke, her voice constricted into a squeak. ‘Please don’t be angry with me.’
‘I’m not angry with you.’ He needed to make her understand the danger. ‘Well, yes I am. Your father’s right.’
‘What? How?’
‘You will never come here again on your own.’ He pointed his finger at her to emphasise the words. ‘The Renegates who patrol the Isis are a fearsome band and, if you don’t have the toll to pay them, they will take your clothes ...’
The horror of his thoughts made him gasp and shudder simultaneously so he choked on the next words, ‘… or worse.’
Her eyes widened as she understood his meaning, and she echoed his gasp. ‘But I’ve been coming that way for weeks; there has never been any sign …’
‘No, because they’ll have been somewhere else. They stay in an area long enough to fleece as many unsuspecting travellers as they can before the marshals hear about it and send guards.’
She shivered. ‘I didn’t realise.’
‘Have you not heard the famous song, Archer, Son of Sedge?’
‘Yes, but it’s just a tale, like the ones I read you.’
‘No, Archer is a boy who lives in Aveburgh.’
‘In the song, they treated Archer with honour.’
‘Because he bested them in a contest. Can you shoot a bow and arrow to impress them?’
‘No.’ Her voice had become very small.
‘So you can see why your father won’t allow you out on your own.’
‘Yes. Maybe Tol could walk home with me. He would be safe wouldn’t he?’
‘Yes, but he’s not here.’
‘Oh. I’m nothing but trouble, am I?’
‘As it happens, today you are.’ He smiled to let her know he’d happily take on that kind of trouble. ‘Tol would be pleased to walk you home, but he won’t be back until after supper. I’m sure your father wouldn’t let you out ’til next Beltane if you waited until then. Does he know you’re here?’
She dropped her gaze, shaking her head from side to side.
‘It just gets worse.’ With a finger he lifted her chin until her eyes met his grave expression. ‘Siany. You must never go anywhere without telling your parents. It’s best if someone always expects you at a certain time so they know if you don’t turn up. Promise me you will never do this again.’
‘I promise.’
‘Right, it’s settled. Pass me over the brace. We need to get you home before the sun sets; it won’t be long now.’
‘But how? You can’t walk all the way to my house and back.’
‘Who says I can’t? Petronella has shown me how to heal myself, so I’m nearly as good as new.’
‘But it’s nearly three miles there and back; you can’t go that far.’
‘I can’t? So you’re just going to face these Renegates by yourself then.’
‘No, but …’
‘It must be one or the other. But whichever you choose, someone will get harmed. You’re just going to have to live with the consequences.’
Siany looked at him in horror; there seemed no way out of this predicament.
17 Ambush
Hitting his arm for the third time, Siany declared for at least the fifth time, ‘Geraint, you are a beast.’
‘Three is more than enough. Hit me once more and you can walk on your own.’ He rubbed his arm.
‘You never intended to walk; you were just teasing me.’
‘Teaching, not teasing. I was teaching you an important lesson about taking responsibility for your actions. Hopefully you’ll think twice before doing it again.’
‘Coming to see you? I won’t need to think at all, I’m never doing it ever again. And if I get the urge to come, I’ll just remember how cruel and smug you are.’
Clicking at Tol’s little pony to encourage him round the bend, Geraint grinned at the vision of her outraged face when he’d picked up the harness and headed to the barn to fetch Dapple and the cart.
Seeing the grin and guessing the reason behind it, she raised her hand again, then thought better of it. Peering into the trees as they skirted the wood, she shuddered with the thought of what lay within. ‘So where is your area then?’
‘My area?’ He looked confused for a second. ‘I don’t … oh. You mean where does our tribe patrol?’
‘I thought that’s what I said.’
‘I didn’t understand straight away because I don’t go out on patrols. Rattrick doesn’t think it’s right for boys to go out until they’ve mastered their Imbolc trial.’
‘What’s that?
‘It’s all about being able to survive in the forest with just a hunting knife. You have to stay out alone for three days and three nights and find your own food and shelter.’
‘But it’s cold at Imbolc and usually raining.’
‘There would be no point doing it at Litha or Herfest when it’s warm and dry. They show us all the tricks about making a shelter and starting a fire. We’ve done the hunting trial in our twelfth year, so we know how to kill and skin a rabbit.’
She shuddered at the idea, but he hadn’t finished. ‘The worst bit is having to make your way back to camp without being captured.’
‘What age do you do this one?’
‘The Imbolc after my seventeenth birthday, so I’ll start training in the Yule before to experience the cold.’
‘Sounds horrid.’
Geraint shrugged. ‘It is what it is. A trial you endure to learn the ways.’
‘Don’t you ever wonder what it might be like to earn your money instead of stealing it?’
He saw no point getting angry as he’d recently said something similar to Savannah. ‘We don’t steal it. Most of the time we make artefacts and trade them for things we can’t make or hunt or grow.’
‘You grow things? I didn’t think you stayed in the same place long enough to do that.’
‘We’ve been at this camp near Calne for almost five years.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘It’s west of Aveburgh. I suppose you’ve heard of that.’
‘That’s where Archer comes from. Have you met him?’
‘I met him here in Oxford when I was about five. And I saw him once from a distance at Stonehenge. Is this the shortcut bridge you told me about?’
She nodded as he reined in the horse.
‘The cart won’t go across.’
‘I’ll be all right from here; it’s only five minutes away. You don’t need to get down.’
‘Yes, I do. I’ll walk you to your street; then you’ll be safe.’
His dismount from the cart wasn’t as easy as it would normally be, but he didn’t disgrace himself. He tied Dapple’s reins to a post and retrieved his stick. They headed toward the narrow footbridge.
The first sign of trouble were the two youths who appeared as if from nowhere to block their exit from the bridge. Cursing himself for the worst kind of fool, he casually turned back to have his fears confirmed. Three more lads grabbed his arms, restraining him as Manfrid pushed past; an evil grin twisted across his face.
‘Well, well. What have we here? A couple of wanderers trying to cross our bridge without paying the toll.’
; ‘It’s not your bridge. You don’t maintain it.’
Smothering his annoyance at Siany’s protest, Geraint cursed himself for not explaining a few rules about these encounters to her.
Leering at his fellows to include them in the joke, Manfrid trilled his displeasure at her words. ‘Ooooh, listen to that, boys. Geraint’s got himself a real educated ladyfriend. Maintain indeed.’ With a swagger, he strode a step closer to her and it took every ounce of resolve for Geraint to remain passive when his mind was screaming to protect her.
‘What we do, dear lady, is patrol the river banks. Providing a service for the travellers, making sure their journey is safe from the bandits who would take all their money and worldly goods.’
‘What you mean is you frighten people into paying their hard-earned money so you won’t attack them.’
Shaking his head, his face took on a mournful expression. ‘Oh dear, that’s not a very nice thing to say. You’re going to regret that. Or rather he is.’ Before his last sentence, he launched a fist at Geraint’s stomach, connecting with a soft “whump.” His speed was deceptive, he was obviously back on form after the contest, and it looked as though his victim didn’t stand a chance.
But Geraint had been expecting a sneaky move and managed to ride some of the blow. Coughing and choking as though he’d been charged by a bull, he saw the two boys approaching from the other bank and weighed up how to play this for the best outcome.
Siany screamed her outrage, flying at Manfrid as if to attack him, but the boys grabbed her arms and forced them behind her back. The other boys tightened their grip on Geraint.
‘Now, now, that’s not very friendly, Missy. But brave, and if there’s one thing we admire, it’s courage.’ He directed a scornful look at Geraint. ‘Shame you picked such a dullard for a boyfriend. He can’t even be bothered to stand up and fight for you.’
Siany looked over to where her friend stood passively between the three boys restraining him. ‘How can he fight when there’s six onto one? You’re cowards, all of you.’
‘I can only see three holding him. Geraint the great, champion of all the Renegates. Hey boys, I’m a poet and I didn’t know it.’ Several of them sniggered, and the red shame of humiliation stained Geraint’s cheeks as Manfrid puffed out his chest.
