Heartbeat of the Moon

by Jennifer Taylor

  Reginald eyed the marketplace and grimaced. “I’ve often wondered where you were, lad. But never could I have imagined you in this provincial little town.”

  “A lot can happen in five years.” Ian kissed Maggie upon the cheek. “Reginald and Charlotte, I am proud to present to you my wife, Maggie.”

  Reginald took her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it, while gazing into her eyes. Ian stiffened.

  “Congratulations, man. You are most fortunate.”

  Maggie removed her hand.

  “You are married, Ian?” The strumpet touched his sleeve, and he jerked it away.

  “Yes, we’ve been blissfully married for a year now.”

  “Oh.” For a brief moment, Charlotte’s eyes went dull. While her singing voice was rich and full, she had the speaking voice of a little girl, and a pout to match.

  Maggie felt like a giant beside her.

  Charlotte inclined her head toward Maggie. “How do you do?”

  “So very nice to meet you,” Maggie said.

  Reginald laughed as if all of life were a lark. “You, Pierce? Married to this delectable creature.” He turned to Maggie. “No doubt Ian has told you all about us.”

  “No, not a word,” Maggie said. And why not?

  “Allow me to educate you then. For nigh onto three years, Ian sang and played with our quartet. We’ve been a sad trio since he left, I assure you.”

  “Oh come now, Reggie.”

  “You’re right.” He laughed. “We’re magnificent. But people still talk about your exploits and fine music. Do you not miss the life of a Wayfaring Wastrel?”

  “Not in the least,” Ian said. “I am the most fortunate of men.”

  “Congratulations, Mistress Pierce. Your gain is my—our loss,” Charlotte said.

  Maggie’s skin prickled with unease.

  “I look forward to seeing you again.” Reginald bowed. “But now I must slake my thirst.”

  “Yes, remember what an appetite performing gives you?” Charlotte widened her eyes at Ian.

  “No, I don’t.” Two spots of color flamed on Ian’s high cheekbones.

  Did the two of them have a history together?

  Reginald took Charlotte’s arm. “Come along, dear.”

  “I see Reggie hasn’t changed a bit, the asinine rake.”

  “Charlotte seems to know you well.”

  “Maggie.” He turned to face her. “I will not lie to you but can only assure you it was all a lifetime ago.”

  Of course he had a past, she chastised herself. Did she think he came to her a virgin?

  A commotion suddenly ensued at the edge of the square. Josef appeared, pushing through the crowd. “He is gone,” he screamed. “My Nikolaus is gone!”

  Chapter Twelve

  Josef veered through the crowd, knocking over the potter’s booth. Dishes crashed to the ground.

  “Damn you, man! You will have to pay for this,” the potter yelled.

  “Help me,” Josef screamed, his face a mask of fear.

  “What is he talking about?”

  “The man is mad.”

  “No, possessed.”

  The whites of their eyes shone in the gloaming of dusk.

  “Sarah, take the children home.” Ian took off after him.

  Maggie followed. Some of the men tried to catch Josef, but he evaded everyone, dodging between stalls, knocking people down.

  Ian grabbed him by the arm.

  He struggled to free himself. “Let me go, man!”

  “Josef, you must calm yourself. What ails you, my friend?”

  Josef fought him off. “His body! It is gone!”

  “Come, let’s go home, Josef.”

  Josef gripped Ian’s wrist and shook it. “No! We must find him, for he is undead.” He searched the crowd, black hair wild around his head, pupils black as the coming night. “You will see when you come with me, and we must hurry.”

  No doubt anticipating more entertainment, the crowd followed Josef as he headed toward the Landgate.

  “We must hurry,” Josef yelled.

  The crowd grew as they left the town. Some people had even fetched their lanterns. “Where is the madman going?”

  Once out of the Landgate, Josef turned toward the graveyard.

  Ian waited for Maggie and took her arm. “It is impossible to talk sense into him. I recognize the nature of the beast.”

  Cries of alarm burst from the townspeople as they realized where they were going. “Sweet Jesus, what is he about?”

  “You must believe me, he is gone.” Josef ran ahead into the graveyard. Maggie gasped as lanterns cast shadows upon the grave, and the piles of dirt and an empty hole where the body had been.

  “You see?” Josef screamed. “He has risen. We must find him, or he will take the blood of the innocent, like the monsters in my village.”

  “Where is the body? He rose from the dead? What is this evil he’s talking about? Is he insane?”

  A pulse of fear beat through the townspeople and into Maggie’s heart.

  “Josef.” Ian took him by the shoulders. “There must be another explanation. Please. Do not incite the fear of these good people anymore.”

  Ian raised his voice. “Please, my friends. Do not panic. Have sympathy for our friend Josef, who has ever been a good friend to you.”

  Maggie didn’t know whether the chill was from the biting wind or the fear and panic in the crowd.

  Captain Jacobs yelled, “I’ve heard many a tale about the creatures, while I was abroad. Yon Josef has brought this to our town.”

  Shouts of alarm rang through the woods.

  “Please forgive me,” Josef screamed. “But it is not too late. We can find him and lay him to rest.”

  “He is crazy,” someone yelled. “Out of his mind.”

  “Yes.” Captain Jacobs made the sign against evil. “Or he will roam the town, massacring and go back to his grave, full of the blood of the innocent.”

  As one, the crowd surged toward Josef.

  Someone prayed.

  “Here now.” Ian spoke above the rising panic. “Let us not turn against our friend, who has been kind to you all. He is distraught with grief, and confused. Do not read anything else into it.”

  Ah. She saw Ian’s intent. If they could steer the crowd one way or the other, they could merely discredit Josef and let people think he was crazy with grief. He put his arm around Josef. His arm shook with the force of Josef’s quivering.

  “I’m sorry, Josef,” Ian whispered. “I know you are not crazy, but you must be silent, man. You have started something here, and we must put it to rest.”

  The constable stepped up. “Now see here, what is the meaning of this?”

  “Fear not.” Ian assured him. “Josef is merely overwrought with grief.”

  “You must stop your caterwauling. You are frightening the townspeople.”

  Pete Stowe stood at the edge of the crowd, hunched over. “Why is it when there’s trouble in the town, Ian Pierce is involved?”

  “Shut your face,” the constable yelled.

  “I’ll take Josef home,” Ian said. “He is ill with grief.”

  “See you do, and waste no time about it. Go home, people.” The constable stood, hands on hips.

  At this show of authority, the crowd began dispersing.

  “I’ve heard the tales about the monsters coming out of the grave when the sun sets,” a sailor said. “They are called vampires.”

  “I’m barring the door tonight.”

  Josef began to cry in great gasps.

  “Get your friend under control,” the constable said. “I can’t be responsible for mass panic as these stories come off the boat and into our town. I heard a sailor talking the same kind of nonsense today. We do not want a repeat of last year’s hysteria.”

  “No. We will take him to our cottage until he calms down. I don’t want to alarm his wife. Come on now, Josef.”

  They made haste to the cottage. Ian admini
stered a strong calming draught, and their friend, though still agitated, had calmed down a bit.

  Ian paced across the floor, running his hands through his undone hair. “Maggie, we helped Josef bury his nephew. Josef was not mistaken, for we visited it just this morning. Where is the body?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “We cannot continue dosing him with strong sedatives.”

  “They don’t seem to have the desired effect, quite.” Ian glanced at him. “The only thing stronger I can give him is opium. And I will not do it.”

  Josef was still wide awake, eyes glazed, limbs twitching. “I need to find the body. We both know it was buried there. We need to find it, find my nephew, for the sake of the townspeople who took me in and made me welcome.” For the first time since he’d arrived, he looked at Ian with recognition. “Had it not been for your mother and father, I would have starved.”

  “Mistress Stowe is a cruel woman,” Ian said.

  Maggie gawped at him, for she’d never heard him say an unkind word about anyone.

  “Josef and I grew up together,” Ian explained. “Despite his being an indentured servant, he was like a brother to me. As I became older, and the affliction rose within me, no matter how erratic or shattered I became, he remained my friend. He will be run out of town if I can’t help him soon.”

  “Help me,” Josef implored Maggie and Ian, eyes bloodshot and rimmed with tears. “He is out there alone in the dark, my boy, wandering somewhere.”

  “Josef.” Ian handed him another cup of the ale mixed with sedative. “Nikolaus is dead.”

  Josef shook his head, rising, and Ian pushed him back into the chair.

  “You must rest, Josef. There is an explanation for this beyond what you are saying. No one rises from the dead.”

  “If they are really dead,” Maggie murmured, remembering last year’s events. “But there has to be a logical, plausible explanation for what happened.”

  “Perhaps there was malice involved. Who would want to discredit you, Josef?”

  It was hard to imagine Josef making enemies, for he treated everyone with even-handed fairness, despite his quiet demeanor.

  Before long, the medicine began to take effect. The best thing to do was to secret him back to the inn, before Lena became alarmed at his absence. He would surely sleep now, considering the amount of ale he’d consumed.

  Ian bundled Josef up. “He is just awake enough for me to guide him home.” Ian glanced at her. “I can carry him if need be.”

  Yes, of course he could.

  “Will you not take your cloak?”

  “No, I am overheated. The fresh air will do me good.”

  Indeed, she could feel the heat radiating from him.

  “Will you be up when I get back?” He grinned wolfishly.

  She nodded.

  “Come on, my friend. Let’s get you home. If we meet anyone on the way, they will merely think we have been drinking.”

  After they’d left, Maggie picked up a pair of his breeches to mend and just as quickly threw them down. It was selfish of her to think so, but could life not be tranquil for just one day? She hoped he would not take long, for she could no more control the urgings of her body than she could control Ian’s changing moods. It was like trying to harness the moon.

  She should be ashamed for thinking of herself when Josef suffered so, and Lena as well. What were they to do with Josef? How much of his story was real, and how much merely a product of his grief?

  In truth, she was tired, and as more time passed, she prepared for bed. A few hours later, she awoke to find him still gone.

  Later, before dawn lit the sky, the bed gave way as Ian lay down, bringing with him the scent of oranges, ale, and sandalwood. She smelled something else she could not identify, carried on the winds of his travels. He wrapped his arms around her and nestled his lips against the crook of her neck.

  “Did you sleep well, my love? I thought to stay with Josef until he fell asleep. It took longer than I anticipated.”

  She turned to him, luxuriating in his warmth, brought the blanket up around them, and molded her body to his in the early morning light.

  ****

  Several hours later, Maggie walked up the lane to McCall’s cottage. The sheepdog ran to her, barking and shaking his hind end in glee.

  Adam McCall mended a fence, casting an eye toward the cottage every few minutes.

  “How are you, Mr. McCall?”

  He smiled. “Truth be told, I’m hiding from the hens.” He cocked his head toward the door. There was an uncommon din seeping from the cracks of the cottage.

  “No mistake, it’s glad I am to have them here.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “But Bethan never stops talking and Elunid stares and fidgets in her odd way. When she has her fits it gives me the chills, it does.”

  He grinned and rose from his task. “No more delay. Onward and upward. Polly and the twins will be glad to see you.”

  She opened the door to find Bethan sitting on the floor with the children. The youngest one tugged on her skirts.

  “Hallo there, little gent.” She picked him up.

  He tucked his curly head into her neck, and she inhaled the scent of milk, outdoors, and baby.

  As a result of a pointed stare from their aunt, the children greeted her one by one.

  Polly lay on her pallet with her feet upon a pillow. “Good morrow, Mistress Maggie.”

  “I am so glad you’re resting. No, don’t get up.”

  Maggie couldn’t help but stare at Polly’s immense belly. Could it have grown overnight? Her attention was diverted by Elunid, who stood against the wall and fingered one of Polly’s wall hangings.

  “The king and his nephew,” she murmured.

  Maggie marveled anew at the wonder of twins. Bethan and Elunid were eerily identical, except in behavior. She knew Elunid by the slope of her shoulders and the smudge of shadows below her eyes.

  “Hello, Elunid.”

  Maggie doubted the strange girl would respond, but she turned her head toward her, nodded, then resumed her perusal of Polly’s handiwork.

  “She’s been reading legends again, and once engaged in something, she cannot let go of it,” Polly said matter-of-factly.

  “What smells so delicious?” Maggie sniffed.

  Katherine stood. “It’s bara brith. I made it.”

  “Did you now?”

  She nodded, face flushed with pride. “Will you join us for tea, Mistress Maggie?”

  She glanced at Bethan for approval. Bethan nodded.

  “I would be delighted, Katherine.”

  The little girl took the pan out of the hearth, set the table, and made tea with an efficiency much like her mother’s. “Tea is served,” she announced regally.

  The women gathered at the table, and the boys, still involved in their game, did not heed her.

  Katherine raised her voice. “Pardon me, brothers, but did I not call you to tea?”

  She raised her voice on the last bit, and the boys lifted their heads as one, as if familiar with the tone and not wanting what might be forthcoming.

  Maggie helped Polly out of bed, and they had a most delightful repast with the delicious Welsh fruit bread.

  Out of her trance for now, Elunid said in a monotone, “You have mastered the art of bara brith.” She fixed her gaze upon Katherine, spoon held in midair. “It bodes well for you.”

  Katherine wriggled her slender shoulders, as if shaking off a chill. “Thank you, Aunt Elunid.”

  When a few minutes had passed and Elunid continued to stare, Katherine began to squirm in her seat.

  Adam broke in. “Delicious, Katherine. I’d say this earns you some time at play, before the weather turns. When we finish, you may take your brothers outside.”

  The sheepdog had been lying by the table under the baby waiting for fallen tidbits. Upon hearing the word “outside,” he promptly rose, whacking the baby with his massive bobbed tale.

  Bethan poured Poll
y another cup of tea. “I will be out soon to help you with your brothers, Katherine.”

  The children and dog headed outside.

  Due to the size of her stomach, Polly had to sit with her body far removed from the table. With as much dignity as possible, she reached forward, and Adam handed her the tea, first stirring in a generous amount of sugar.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Maggie, it was very kind of you to come out again, but not necessary. I do not feel anything forthcoming.”

  “I would rather err on the side of caution, Polly. And I’m glad your sisters are here to assist you.”

  A fair amount of time passed in congenial conversation, then Maggie rose to attend to her duties with Polly. “Come. Let’s see how the babes are coming along.”

  Just then, they heard the dog barking and growling in turn.

  “Something’s wrong,” Adam said. “He never growls.”

  With the exception of Polly, who had already gone to lie down, they rushed to the door.

  In the far side of the field, a large brown dog stood, teeth bared. No more than two feet away, the sheepdog stood, hackles raised. The children hid behind him, Katherine carrying the baby, and when the other dog tried to advance, the sheepdog snarled and snapped at him.

  “The sheepdog is protecting the children,” Maggie said.

  “Yes. Good dog.” Adam grabbed a pitchfork and thrust it toward the strange dog. Bethan gathered the children and took them inside.

  Their dog stayed with Adam, trying to get between him and the strange brown cur.

  “Get away, you!” Adam yelled, until finally the dog ran toward the forest.

  Bethan comforted each of the children in turn.

  “Were you frightened, Katherine?” Elunid asked.

  “Yes, but I knew Laddy would protect us.”

  Adam and the dog returned to the house. “He’s gone.”

  The children all embraced the dog. He licked them in turn, tail wagging.

  “Good lad. You’ve earned your keep today.” Adam gave him a chunk of cheese, and he hunkered down to make quick work of it.

  “I’ve not seen the dog before,” Adam said.

  ‘I hope he’s gone for good,” Maggie said.

  “Was he mad?” Eluned asked without turning from her perusal of the needlework.