An Earthly Knight

by Janet Mcnaughton

  “Ah, there you are, my lady. Do you know how this happened?” Gilchrist, the groom, stood beside La Rose. Jenny gasped. The little horse’s mane was a mass of tangles.

  “Not at all. After I rode her yesterday, one of your boys took her for me. Thurstan, I think. She was fine then.”

  “You see?” Thurstan said. He was a large boy with short-cropped hair. He was sullen at the best of times but looked so miserable now that Jenny was sure he had played no part in this mischief. Gilchrist was a dour man. Jenny guessed he could be a harsh master.

  Galiene pushed her way through the crowd and stood beside Jenny. “Oh my,” she said. “Elflocks.” She looked shaken.

  “Come now, Galiene, are you giving us that old wives’ nonsense?” Gilchrist asked.

  Jenny knew Galiene did not like to be taunted about the unseen. She squared her shoulders. “I say the wee folk entered here by magic and tangled the mare’s mane, Gilchrist. You can accept that if you wish,” she paused, “or we can wonder how you could be so slack with the guarding of your lord’s horses as to let some prankster in.”

  The groom’s frown deepened. “I will bar the bailey gate and set a guard upon the stable tonight. We will see who dares breach it.”

  “Fine,” Galiene said, “and when you find that brawn alone is not enough to stop the wee folk in their mischief, maybe I will help you. Now, I must prepare my ladies for Mass.” A queen could not have made her exit with more majesty.

  But Jenny could not bring herself to leave yet.

  She stroked her horse’s neck. “Poor La Rose. Set someone to groom the tangles from her mane, and do not leave her alone today. I will return as soon as I am able.”

  At Mass, Jenny paid little attention. Tam had to be behind this magic too. But why would he torment her so? She had done nothing to harm him. Jenny knew Galiene would soon realize that the magic was aimed at her and start to ask questions. The full moon was only two nights away.

  Jenny clung to the faint hope that Tam would honour his invitation, that she might find him at Carter Hall then. Could she possibly slip away from the dance? She felt she could find peace only by seeing him. Her feelings were as deeply tangled as La Rose’s mane.

  As they left the chapel, Galiene whispered to her, “Put a silver coin in some water and give that to your mare to drink. It will help.”

  When Jenny returned to the stable, she found the two boys, Thurstan and Alric, had made little progress with the tangles. She slipped a silver coin into a bucket of water and set it before La Rose. “Let her drink a bit before you go on,” she said. After that, the elf-locks did come loose more freely.

  “The boys will sleep in here tonight, my lady,” Gilchrist said. “And your father’s best men will guard the doors.”

  The next morning, Jenny woke early and went to the stable right away. Before the guards could unbar the doors, she heard Alric cry, “What happened to me? Oh, what happened?” Jenny rushed inside to find the boy in a panic. His fine, fair hair was just as tangled as La Rose’s mane had been. He was close to tears.

  Thurstan’s hair was too short to tangle. “Stop squalling, you sookie bairn,” he said, and he raised his arm to give the smaller boy a clout.

  “Leave him be,” Jenny cried. “Go check the horses.” She put her arm around Alric’s shoulders. He was trembling. “Never mind,” she said, “I will look after you.” She felt as if she had harmed the boy herself. He said nothing, but leaned on her for comfort.

  “Only your horse again, my lady,” Thurstan reported when he had toured the stalls. “Same as yesterday.”

  Gilchrist arrived and frowned at the boys. “Are you two the pranksters?” he asked.

  “No!” Thurstan cried. “This is beyond my ken, sir. I thought my eyes were open all night.” His indignation was sincere. Alric still looked terrified.

  “And the men at the door swear the same. I suppose we should ask your old nurse what to do next, my lady.” Gilchrist looked anything but pleased.

  “I will send her myself,” Jenny said. “And the boy can come with me to get his hair combed.”

  “Never mind, my lady. We can cut those knots out.”

  Jenny felt Alric flinch beneath her arm. “No. Leave the boy to me.”

  As they crossed to the bower, Jenny said, “I must go to Mass, but wait for me to return. We can hardly bring you into the chapel like this.” She hated to have to leave him alone. He still looked like a frightened rabbit.

  In the bower, Galiene took everything calmly.

  “Lucky your hair is not as thick as a horse’s mane, boy. We can set you to rights at once.” She sat Alric on a stool and fetched a comb.

  “But what about Mass?” Jenny asked.

  “A child came from Langknowes while you were gone. Old Jemmy in the toun is drawing his last breath. Brother Turgis is with him, so we will have no Mass today. Poor old Jemmy.”

  “May Heaven bless him,” Jenny said, but her thoughts were not on the farmer. “Give me the comb. Gilchrist is ready to take your advice.” And she began to work on the boy’s hair.

  “So, he has more sense than I thought.” Galiene chuckled as she sat down. “I am in no great hurry to help him, but it will be easy enough to fix. And no one seems to have told Brother Turgis, which is just as well. He would want to bless the stables, and that would not work.”

  “Galiene! How can you say that?”

  “The wee folk do not fear God. The Church has no power over them.”

  Alric, who had been silent all this time, suddenly pulled away from the comb and faced them. “Am I cursed by the fairies, then? Will I be odd for the rest of my life? Will they come for me?” His eyes were large in his pale face.

  “Oh hush,” Galiene said. “What would the wee folk want with a scrawny lad like you? The only lad I ever heard of who was taken by them was the grandson of an earl.”

  Jenny knew this was Galiene’s way of being kind, but the words made her heart lurch. “Turn around now, Alric,” she said, more sharply than she had intended. “Let me deal with this mess.” A long moment passed before she trusted herself to speak again. “Galiene, if someone were taken like that, could he ever be freed?”

  Galiene paused to consider. “There are plenty of stories of those taken by the wee folk, hen. Most are never right in their minds again, never really of this world.”

  “But could it happen? Could the enchantment be broken?” As Jenny struggled to keep her voice calm, her hands worked convulsively.

  “Ow!”

  “Oh, Alric, forgive me,” Jenny said. A clump of the poor boy’s hair lay in her comb.

  “I fancy it could,” Galiene said. “But it would take a powerful charm. Such things are beyond my ken. I have only the simple charms that anyone knows. Now, I suppose I should go lend my lore to Gilchrist. He only needs to put iron bars in all the stalls, but it will take the smith all day to forge them.”

  “Wait a bit, Galiene,” Jenny said. “Alric, does Thurstan bully you?” The boy nodded slowly, reluctant to tell. Jenny grinned at him. “Galiene, be sure that Gilchrist puts Thurstan on the bellows. The smith will need a stout pair of arms.” For the first time that day, Alric smiled.

  When Galiene was gone, Jenny worked at the elf-locks silently. Could the spell that held Tam Lin be broken? If Galiene’s stories were true, Tam had been little older than Alric when the fairies first took him. How much hope could there be, after such a long time?

  Isabel came into the bower. “Gilchrist told Papa everything while we ate. Is Alric all right?”

  “Almost as good as new,” Jenny said. “See, only one patch of tangles left to sort out.”

  “Oh, good. Alric, will you still sing at the dance tomorrow?”

  The boy blushed. “Aye, my lady.”

  “Alric, have you been keeping secrets from me?” Jenny hoped a little gentle teasing might help restore the boy’s humour, but he looked appalled.

  “I never tried to hide my voice from you, my lady. They call me ‘
the Reed’ because of it.”

  “It takes nothing at all to keep a secret from you this summer, Jenny,” Isabel said quickly, to ease the boy’s discomfort. “You are always gone. Alric has been working with Cospatric and me, learning the old Norman songs. He has a fine voice.”

  “There you are, Alric. All untangled. So you sing, do you? It will be a relief to leave that to someone else. Now, Isabel, please excuse us. Alric has to go back to the stable, and I want to see to La Rose.”

  As soon as they were outside, Jenny drew close to the boy, speaking in an urgent whisper. “Alric, I think I know why this happened, but it must be a secret between us. Can you keep a secret for me?” The boy nodded and Jenny continued. “I must have offended the fairies when I was riding in the forest. I want to make peace with them.” This was only half a lie. “Galiene says the fairies go abroad by moonlight. Tomorrow, when the moon is full and everyone is busy with the dance, I will steal away. You must help me. Can you take La Rose to pasture tomorrow afternoon, and make sure she is not returned to the stable in the evening?”

  The boy frowned. “Not if Thurstan comes with me, my lady, and he will.”

  Jenny smiled. “Leave Thurstan to me. When the smith has finished with the iron bars for the stable, I will find a way to keep the boy at the bellows tomorrow as well.”

  “What if Gilchrist checks and finds La Rose gone?”

  “Gilchrist will be busy. It will surely take all afternoon to put the wood for the bonfire in place. I will tell him La Rose is fine.” Jenny paused. Alric could never carry her saddle any distance. “I will take my saddle from the stable, but you must be sure the bailey gate is not barred so I can return home.”

  “But, my lady, the groom makes sure it is barred these nights.”

  “Just slip away some time in the night and remove the bar. Everyone will be too busy with the dance to notice. This is important, Alric. If I am caught, it will go hard for me, but I must make sure nothing like this ever happens to La Rose or you again. Do you understand?”

  The boy nodded, his eyes large. Jenny knew she was asking him to take a risk as well.

  They met Gilchrist and Galiene just coming out the stable door with a very sullen-looking Thurstan in tow. “Very well, then,” the groom said. “Off you go to the forge, lad.” He looked at Alric. “Lucky you are to be so lame, laddie, or you might be at the forge all day yourself. As it is, you can see to the lady’s horse. She needs grooming just as badly as she did yesterday.”

  By the end of the day, each stall was outfitted with its own iron bar, and old horseshoes had been hammered above all the stable doors for good measure. “You can be sure the wee folk will stay away now,” Galiene told Gilchrist.

  “Seeing is believing,” the groom replied in his terse way.

  Jenny wondered why iron bars and horseshoes would keep the fairies away when the horses were already shod with iron, but she knew better than to ask in front of Gilchrist. The groom’s barely concealed scorn gave Galiene an uncertain temper.

  Jenny went to bed that night knowing it would take a miracle to get her to Carter Hall and back unnoticed, even with Alric’s help. She was amazed by her own guile. She had spent half the afternoon in the kitchen shed convincing Hawise that they needed new grills for the kitchen, and the other half at the forge, praising Thurstan’s work at the bellows until the smith thought the boy the best helper he had ever seen. She was fairly sure the smith now planned to use Thurstan for another day’s work at least while he forged the new grills. Jenny smiled to herself. If he decided to claim the boy for good, it would serve Thurstan right for being mean to Alric. Jenny tried to keep her mind on the practical problems of getting out of the bailey unnoticed. She did not allow herself to consider what would happen after that.

  The sun rose the next morning on a perfect August day. Jenny breathed a sigh of relief. The dance would surely go ahead in such weather. Everything was as it should be in the stable, the horses perfectly groomed in their ironclad stalls. The guards had left. Jenny hefted her saddle and hid it out by the pasture unseen. After Mass, she strolled close enough to the forge to see Thurstan hard at work. These small victories cheered Jenny so much that Isabel noticed while they worked.

  “Carding wool is not a task that makes you glad enough to hum, as a rule,” she said.

  “I feel pleased with life today. It must be the weather, or maybe the thought of the dance.”

  “Or perhaps you are thinking of Earl William?”

  Isabel said. “How do you feel about this betrothal? It seems as good as sworn now.”

  Jenny put down her carding combs and sighed. “Lady Ada will be a harsh mother-in-law. She overshadows all around her, and she seemed to dislike me on sight.”

  Isabel gave her a quizzical look. “You are not marrying the mother. What of her son?”

  “Earl William fancies himself the centre of the universe,” Jenny said. “Like the earth, he believes the sun, the moon and the stars orbit around him. Even when he tries to be kind, he can find no better subject for conversation than himself. He is not the man I would marry if I were free to choose.” She was alarmed to hear herself speak so truthfully.

  “Jenny, it may be better this way. I chose Bleddri, and look how it went for me.”

  Jenny had waited so long to hear Isabel’s story.

  Now, she was afraid she might tell Isabel everything if they continued to talk this way. She quickly changed the subject. “How is the wood for the bonfire, do you know? I asked Gilchrist to see to it.”

  “Then it will be done properly, you can be sure. But go see if you want. Some sunshine might do you good. You look a bit pale.”

  Jenny hoped Isabel would not notice how quickly she fled. Could Tam Lin be a fiend like Bleddri, luring her away from home to do her harm? Surely not. Bleddri had always made her uneasy, but the Tam she remembered was gentle and kind. Aye, she told herself, but who played that cruel trick on you with the dress, and who tied the elf-locks in La Rose’s mane and terrified Alric? Could that be Tam as well? She had to know.

  In the open part of the bailey, the pile of wood was growing higher, carefully stacked under Gilchrist’s watchful eye.

  “Mind where you place that log, boy. Not like that. We must be sure none of the wood will roll when everything is aflame.” He was totally absorbed by the work.

  Alric limped around a corner of the stable with an armful of bark for kindling. When their eyes met, Jenny knew he would not fail her.

  Chapter Seventeen

  High above the moon-silvered forest, a wind rushed through the tops of the great trees with a song like the voice of a river, but here, far below, everything was hushed and still. Jenny kept La Rose tightly reined, afraid the little horse might stumble in the dark. She had never been alone in the forest at night like this. It was more beautiful and more terrifying than any dream.

  It had been easy to slip away unnoticed. The bonfire Gilchrist had made was so large, it was impossible to tell who might be on the other side, and just beyond it, darkness fell like a curtain.

  Now, if only Alric could make sure the bailey gate would be open when she returned. If only no one noticed she was gone. She tried not to let her thoughts run too far ahead.

  Before she came to the river, she dismounted and led La Rose cautiously, straining for any sound that might alert her to the freebooters. There was no reason why she should meet them here rather than anywhere else on the path, she knew, but she could not shake the feeling that this was a dangerous place now.

  She mounted La Rose to cross the river and urged her mare on to Carter Hall, her heart pounding. Tam Lin might be completely changed, a cruel, malicious man she did not know. But the thought that Carter Hall would again be empty frightened her even more.

  He was there, though, waiting by the well. He even smiled when he saw her.

  “You came,” he said. “I was afraid you might not be able to.”

  She dismounted but pulled La Rose close, using the little m
are as a barrier. “Able to? Did you not wonder if I would want to see you again?” She shouted the words.

  “But I thought . . . I hoped . . . we were friends,” he stammered.

  “How could you, after the way you treated me?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You sent me off to Roxburg in a dress made of dead leaves. It was a cruel trick. How could you be so heartless?”

  “Heartless! It took years to learn how to make that glamour. You have no inkling how hard it was to cast a charm that would last that long and travel so far from its maker. And the dress was beautiful. You said so yourself.” He looked crushed.

  Jenny took a step back. “How can you speak that way?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “As if magic were part of everyday life?”

  “It is part of my everyday life. It has been for almost seven years. I wanted to give you a gift no one else could give you. I forgot how strange it might seem.” He looked lost. “Jenny, I can hardly remember what it must be like to live in the world of men.”

  Jenny’s anger vanished. “But it was more than just a dress, Tam. Why did you beguile it so that every man would fall in love with me? I thought you were mocking me.”

  “Mocking you? Jenny, I have to make you understand.” He ran both hands through his hair. “I hardly know how to begin. Will you come to the hall? I made you a meal. Please?” He held out his hand to her.

  Jenny hesitated. She had not dared to hope she would find him like this, calm and reasonable as ever. She was still uncertain she could trust this man, whose life might be more terrible and strange than she could imagine. But she knew she could not leave him now. “‘I will,” she said, and she took his hand.

  Carter Hall was transformed. A cheerful fire blazed on the floor very near to the place where she had cried herself out a few days before. A hare was roasting over the fire and a table was set for a meal. Jenny was amazed. “Is this fairy glamour as well?” she asked.

  “No, it is not.” For the first time, Tam sounded annoyed. “Hunting without hounds is no easy sport. I was off in the woods for days, getting that hare to make you a good supper. Everything you see here is the product of my hard labour, I promise you that. Except the bread, which came by the good grace of those freebooters.” Then he gave her a smile that was more than a little mischievous. “And the fish, which I robbed from one of your father’s weirs. He has so many, I was sure no one would notice.”