by Jacky Gray
He flourished a bow. “If milady would show me her town, I wouldst visit her familiar haunts.”
Giggling at his courtly manners, she stopped at several stalls, exchanging greetings with pedlars she’d known all her life. Each one exclaimed about how much they missed her, finding “a little something” they reserved only for their favoured customers.
“I feel as though I’m accompanying royalty,” he whispered as she came away with a parcel of “the finest Belgian lace you will ever see in this country.”
She glanced at the ground. “I wish you would not tease me so. I have little experience of such behaviour.”
“Do you not enjoy it? If it offends you so I will stop. But I find the way your cheeks turn pink at each remark so delightful it makes me want to do it even more.”
“Good morn, dear Lareeta. How is all with your family?”
She struggled for composure as her mother’s favourite cordwainer greeted her. “They are well, thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve not seen your mother for several moons, now. I thought she’d found another merchant.” He laughed at the absurdity of this and she smiled politely.
“I have saved something for her.” He ducked below the table and pulled out a pair of beautiful pale blue boots. “The finest kid – so soft she would not know she wore them.” He hurriedly returned them below as another customer eyed them greedily.
“I’m sure she will be along presently. I shall pass on your regards.”
“Thank you, my dear. God go with you.”
“Th-thank you. God speed.” She maintained a smile until they passed the next stall, then she ducked into an alley.
He peered into the gloom. “We should not tarry here, it does not look safe. Are you all right?”
She covered her face with her hands. “N-no. I have not seen my mother for four moons when I told her I’d be moving to Avebury.”
“Oh dear. Were you not close?”
“Not for a while, but it became worse every year. When I started working for Rielle, she withdrew from her normal daily routine. I saw her less and less frequently as she would not rise before the Terce bell and oft retired to her chamber by the time I returned, even if it was long before Vespers.”
“Was she ill?”
“Not in her body.” She couldn’t bring herself to add the implied words. “I know my father’s rules and restrictions made her unhappy, but I don’t remember a time when she laughed – or even smiled.” With a sigh, she tried to recall happy memories from her childhood, but they were all overshadowed by the need to maintain an “appropriate” façade according to her father’s idea of what was correct and proper.
Her mother lived in fear of the slightest speck of dirt on Lareeta’s clothes or the smallest toy being out of place to “turn the house into a pigsty.” A phrase she’d heard for many years before she had any inkling what a pigsty was.
The shock of Taron taking her hand and pulling her back toward the market shook her out of her reverie. Despite the thickness of the mitten, she felt the powerful grip of his fingers and flushed, remembering his touch when he’d held her hand long enough to bow over it. He led her to the place where a road crossed over the main street.
“Your family live in St Mary’s parish, don’t they. Can you get to their house down here?”
“Yes, but …”
“Indulge me. We’ll walk there and you’ll show me all the places you used to explore when you lived here. I want to know you as a child, full of mischief and adventure.”
“I’m afraid I was never that girl.”
“Well let’s invent some memories for you. I’ll help you to connect with the kind of childhood you might have had if you’d lived in Avebury. We all lived as explorers and knights with new lands to discover and battles to fight.”
She shook her head. “It wouldn’t work. I have no imagination for things like that. My father would only allow us access to the bible and collections of sermons and other serious works. He locked all the other books away.”
“But you must have found a way to peek inside and at least read the titles.”
“I cannot think why you would know that about me. It is a guilt I’ve carried for so long.”
“Because it is the sole purpose of a child to investigate and explore. Especially anything forbidden. How else are they to learn anything?” His impish grin made her laugh and she fell in with his plan, leading him down the wide street where a number of stalls displayed their wares, an overspill from the main street.
“Of course, when we get there, if you do not wish to visit your mother, you do not need to. There may be a neighbour or someone you can ask about her state of health.”
Lareeta nodded, knowing exactly who would be fully up-to-date with all the happenings in every house in the neighbourhood. She played along with his game as he pointed out features, inventing a host of adventures filled with rich detail of princesses, dragons, ogres and always a handsome prince who would rescue her from each predicament. They crossed a rickety wooden bridge over a small brook, and he described the grotesque troll who lived beneath it and shouted at any young maiden caught with a speck of dirt on her pinafore.
He barred the way, pointing to a smudge on her kirtle. “You have sinned, and the punishment is … death.”
“Oh, no. What is to become of me?” She raised her arm to her forehead, pretending to swoon in fear.
“You have one chance.” He towered over her, arms raised as though to attack. “If you have the courage to kiss the ugly troll, you may be permitted to live.” With a terrifying growl, he bent toward her.
Caught up in the drama, she leant forward and kissed his cheek.
Spinning around, his demeanour changed completely as he became a handsome prince, bowing low before her. “Thank you, my princess. I was trapped in that hideous body by an evil magician. And now, your reward.”
Before she could think to protest, he gathered her in his arms and kissed her on the mouth – something no one had ever done before.
The sound of a crow cawing nearby broke the spell and Lareeta jumped away from him, raising her hands to cover her heart, which beat as though she’d been running.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to ...”
“Hie.” A figure in the distance shook his fist angrily at them, shouting something they couldn’t hear.
“A sergeant. Quick.” He grabbed at her hand, but the mitten came off, so he shoved it in his other hand and took her fingers, pulling her along at an unreasonable pace until they reached the shelter of a large oak tree in the centre of a small green.
She took over then, leading him to a narrow alley running between the houses. Keeping low, they skirted a hedge and hid behind a row of yew trees separating two large houses. Not before time as loud footsteps thumped round the corner.
“Disgusting display of lewdness. To have a baggage like that ply her trade in a respectable area …” The rest of his tirade faded as he slammed into the house in whose garden they hid.
“Phew. That was a narrow escape. Now, which one is your mother’s house?”
Lareeta’s misery was so acute she could not speak, merely staring at the door in shock.
Taron frowned, glancing from her to the door where the man could still be heard ranting and raving. “That was your father?”
She nodded miserably.
“Oh, my love. You poor thing. And you are not like that at all. It is all my fault.” He straightened. “I should …”
“Nothing. If he thought I could behave like that, he would lock me in my chamber while he arranged for me to enter a nunnery.” She sniffed. “Although he all but disowned me after I started working for Rielle. In the end, I could endure the atmosphere at home no longer, so I stayed with her for several moons until Dagda’s room became available.” Shaking off her misery, she led him out to the back of the houses so they could leave the area without detection.
Her appetite for his stories had gone and they
strode back to the centre mostly in silence. Just as they reached the high street, he cleared his throat.
“If you want to go straight back home I will understand.”
She tried a weak smile. “Don’t be silly. I couldn’t possibly leave without saying hello to Rielle. And we need to eat.” She gazed at the sky, trying to discern where the sun would be if it wasn’t covered by thick clouds.
A bell rang out the noon chimes, confirming the reason for the emptiness in her stomach. “Oh dear. I fear we shall have missed the girls …”
“Lareeta!” The shout had them turning and she realised she’d walked straight past her employer’s house, despite the gaudy banners set out to attract market-day customers.
Two of the girls tugged her into the shop, and Taron hung around, obviously reluctant to walk into an establishment where ladies garments were sold. She gestured at him to go to the tailors next door, and Taysen sent him straight to the back where a large hut had been built behind the two houses, serving as a workroom for both businesses.
Rielle looked up from the garment she was working on with a welcoming smile. “Taron. How lovely to see you. Will you share a bowl of pottage with us? And don’t bother trying to refuse, that is not allowed. I would never hear the last from Dagda if I left you to fend for yourself.”
“I would be delighted. Thank you. Allow me to contribute a loaf of cheese bread to the meal. I shall get another one for Dagda.”
“Mmm, that smells wonderful. I’ll put it to warm while we organise everything.” As Rielle and the girls ladled out the thick soup, Taysen poured a beaker of ale for everyone and they toasted “to market day.”
Lareeta appreciated the chance to watch Taron in unfamiliar surroundings; he did not seem overwhelmed by the noisy chatter, answering each of the girl’s questions with courtesy and good humour. If he was aware of the many admiring glances aimed his way, he did not show it. She felt his gaze upon her often, as though he were trying to reassure that the attention of the other girls meant nothing.
At the end of the meal, Taron asked if Taysen would mind him studying the buttons on the men’s tunics.
“Not at all. I can tell you, I wish there was someone nearby who made them, we have to pay a premium for the ones coming from across the seas.”
Lareeta took the opportunity to do the same in Rielle’s shop when the door sprang open, admitting a rather annoyed Cedany.
“What happened to you? We’ve looked everywhere.”
“I’m sorry. Taron thought you two would prefer each other’s company.”
Cedany’s face darkened. “Normally, yes. But after your tales about the football match, Baxter insisted on trying to find the common you talked about, convinced he would see some football.”
“Oh, dear. I am sorry. I thought he realised it had been banned on feyre days. Too much trouble with so many people and so much drinking of ale.”
“I remember, you mentioned something about that, but I had become bored beyond measure.”
Aware of Taron’s concern as he hovered at the back of the shop, Lareeta tried a smile. “No harm done. You’ve found us now.”
“Yes there was. It was so muddy that my best boots are ruined. Then we got lost on the way back, and now I’ve missed a cosy lunch.”
“I think there’s some left …”
“It’s not that. I missed getting together with the girls and catching up. They’ve all gone now.” She huffed a sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rage at you. It’s not your fault. It’s simply that sometimes he can be so …”
“Overbearing? Annoying? Downright boring?” Taron’s grin softened the tease.
She hadn’t heard his silent approach, and she jumped. “How dare you. That’s my betrothed you are talking about.”
He flinched from her anger.
“I thought he was supposed to be a friend.”
“He was. I mean, he is. I was merely …”
“Teasing. Yes, Taron. We’ve all suffered from your teasing.”
Misery dulled his face. “I’m sorry. I intended no harm.”
Her eyes sparkled. “No harm was done. He is all those things and more. Exasperating, pompous, but with a heart as big as a field.”
“What?” Taron’s frown made both girls smile.
“I thought you might like a taste of your own medicine.” Cedany’s grin was pure mischief. “I was merely teasing.”
Lareeta raised her eyes heavenward. What chance did she have, surrounded by people who took their pleasure from upsetting others?
Baxter pushed the door open, and the strong smell of rich, meaty gravy wafted in. “I think you should come out here, sweetest. I don’t wish to contaminate these beautiful gowns with this strong smell.”
Cedany shrugged at the other two as if to say, “Do you understand?”
Lareeta and Taron glanced at each other and turned away to hide their giggles.
The rest of the afternoon ran more smoothly as they joined the crowd to watch the impromptu show put on by the entertainers. Despite his precautions, Baxter managed to lose one of his purses, although he reported happily it only held a few pennies. He promptly went to replace it at the haberdashers, but the woman remembered him and doubled the price, so he decided to manage with just the two.
By the time they spoke to the Persian trader, Xalvadar, his stall was no longer swamped with eager byers, but he had very little left.
“Humble apologies, dear lady. I wish you had visited earliest.”
“We passed three times, but could not get close because of the crush of people.” Lareeta smiled. “I merely wanted to ask after your family with all the troubles in your country.”
He closed his hands in prayer and bowed to her. “Allah blesses you for the asking. They are all very well, thanking you. My wife has produced yet another son. I have no ideas where she is finding them.”
“How wonderful. That’s three now, isn’t it?”
“Three handsome princes and Ayleesha, my little princess.” He bowed again. They is eating me out of home and hearth.”
Baxter let out a huge guffaw and the man grinned from ear to ear.
He disappeared under the stall for a moment, with a loud grunting sound. When he emerged, he had a large, folded piece of cloth which he proceeded to lay out in front of her. “You like, yes?”
She ran her hands over the sumptuous fabric, full of rich colours embroidered with tiny golden stars. “It’s beautiful. Fit for a king.”
“It’s yours.” With another wide grin, he folded it into a package, tying it with ribbon. He bowed, handing it to her.
He frowned as she reached for her purse, saying, “Do not offend me with coins. This is a gift because you are the only one who cared to ask about my family.”
She dipped in a curtsey. “Thank you so much for your generosity. I am honoured. I will make this into something beautiful.”
“It must be something for you to wear. No one else.”
“Of course. I could not bear to give it away.”
The man bowed. “That is all the thanks I need. It would be very nice if you could wear it to show me at the next feyre.”
Taron stepped up. “I will personally make sure she does that, Sir.”
12 – Perilous Pilgrimage
By the time they got back to Avebury, the four were firm friends, each knowing a little more about the other. After that, they spent time together often, sharing meals and experiences, talking long past sundown.
Lareeta attended the esbat on the full moon, with Cedany and the other women in the village. She joined the entire village to celebrate Ostara on the vernal equinox, when night and day were of equal length. After the ceremony, she watched the children hunting for the painted eggs, then rolling them down the hillside in a race involving much merriment and cheating. Almost everyone in the village took part in the “Planting,” where seeds were planted along the paths leading to the four entrances to the henge and in the gardens outside the village hall. They
then had a massive “sharing” meal in the hall where everyone brought seasonal food and wine to share with their neighbours.
On the following Sunday, they joined Lareeta in the local church, much to the satisfaction of the priest. It seemed to her that they enjoyed the experience far less than she enjoyed their ceremony. Taron was particularly vociferous about what he called “the awe-full mess.”
“Can they not make their mind up about whether they should be sitting or standing? I’m no sooner sitting on the bench than everyone is leaping up or kneeling down. I had no idea attending mass would build up an appetite with all the activity.”
“Yes, those stone benches are not comfortable, and it’s not ideal sitting against the walls, but at least there were so few people you don’t have to stand. As for the activity, it stops you from falling asleep.” She grinned.
“I don’t understand why all the emphasis is on sin and absolution. Isn’t it better not to do a bad thing in the first place?”
“I would agree with you, but my father says every man sins.”
Taron muttered something under his breath which she reasoned would not be complimentary to her father.
She gave one last try. “You are not seeing the mass at its best with such a small congregation. In St Mary’s they have a choir and musicians so things like the Agnus Dei and Kyrie are magnificent.”
“Agnus Dei?”
“The lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.”
He exchanged a glance with the other two, and Cedany smiled. “I like the sound of a choir. Can anyone attend?”
Baxter didn’t look pleased. “Hold on a moment. I’m not sure if I want to travel all that way for something I would not enjoy.”
Lareeta thought this sounded a little out of character for him; normally he insisted on accompanying Cedany everywhere.
Her friend adopted an innocent air. “I would not ask you to. Lareeta and I are perfectly capable of doing this together. We don’t need anyone along who doesn’t wish to be there.”
The effect was dramatic as his chest swelled and his face darkened several shades. “How many times do I have to warn you of the dangers of travelling alone? There are so many vagabonds, thieves and other outlaws waiting to deprive you of whatever you possess – even the clothes from your back.”
