by Kate Forsyth
‘Why do they no’ open them up?’
‘Because then the prisoners would escape.’
‘Why do they want to keep them locked up all the time?’
‘Because they’ve done bad things, and need to be punished for them.’
‘But Rhiannon hasn’t done anything bad, why is she locked up?’
Again Nina had to think about the best way to answer him. ‘She killed a man, remember,’ she said at last. ‘It’s wrong to kill people, Roden.’
‘But she killed him because he was trying to kill her mam,’ Roden reminded her. ‘I’d kill someone if they were trying to kill ye.’
‘I’d probably kill someone too if he was hurting or threatening ye,’ Nina admitted.
‘And would they lock ye up for it?’
‘I’m afraid so. At least until the court was satisfied I had only done it to save ye.’
‘But would they …’
Nina shook her head at him and said, ‘I’m sorry, honey, I really need to go.’
‘Canna I go and see Uncle Dide? I havena heard all his adventures yet.’
‘All right,’ Nina said. ‘But if he’s busy, I want ye to stay with the nursemaid, and no’ go anywhere. Deal?’
‘Deal,’ Roden said, and they spat on their palms and shook hands.
‘Come on then,’ Nina said, and Roden got up and held out his hand for Lulu, who rolled forwards and on to her feet, cackling in her shrill voice. Nina took Roden’s hat and jacket down from their hook behind the door. With her son swinging from her hand, his boots making a great clatter on the polished floors, they made their way to Dide’s rooms, where the Earl was enjoying a late, leisurely breakfast. Roden was perfectly happy to eat again, though his uncle protested at having a gravening come to pick his bones clean.
‘That son o’ yours should be as plump as a parson,’ he grumbled to Nina, ‘the way he eats. Do ye no’ feed him?’
‘Altogether too often,’ Nina replied. ‘Thanks for minding him, Dide. I willna be long. I just want to look in on Rhiannon, she was looking very peaky yesterday.’
‘Ye’re visiting that prison rather often, aren’t ye?’ Dide said. ‘Need ye go every day?’
‘I do no’ go every day,’ Nina answered. ‘I wish I could! But I’m teaching a few classes at the Theurgia again, ye ken, and I have my apprentices to keep an eye on, as well as court duties, Eà blast them! I do find it hard to find the time to go as much as I should.’
‘I ken ye feel ye owe this Rhiannon a lot,’ Dide said slowly, ‘but …’
Nina looked at her son’s ruddy curls, bent in great concentration over an egg-and-bacon pie. ‘I owe her everything,’ Nina said simply. ‘Everything.’
Dide nodded his understanding. ‘Feeling is high among the Yeomen,’ he said soberly. ‘They will no’ like it if she is pardoned, or found innocent o’ only manslaughter. Connor was much liked.’
‘As long as they do no’ … execute her,’ Nina said softly, trying to keep her voice low enough that Roden would not hear. ‘I do no’ ken how I could explain that …’ She indicated Roden with her head.
‘I’ll speak to Lachlan,’ Dide said. ‘Hanging is rare enough these days that he may be able to issue a lesser sentence without too much o’ an outcry. I ken he will be sympathetic to your feelings, no matter how angry he is over Connor’s death.’
‘Thanks,’ Nina said, and rose. ‘I willna be long. If Roden is too much trouble, take him to the Theurgia. Fat Drusa will be happy to keep him occupied for a few hours there.’
‘Won’t be long before he’ll be a student there himself,’ Dide said. ‘Look how tall he is. He must be eight by now, surely?’
Roden looked up and grinned. ‘Nay, silly, I’m six. Don’t ye ken aught?’
‘Don’t be a cheeky arak, Roden,’ Nina said sternly, and took her leave.
She knew the way to the prison well enough now to walk it with no conscious effort, her mind busy with many problems. Foremost was her worry over Rhiannon, and the puzzlement caused by Lewen’s sudden change of heart. She would never have thought of Lewen as fickle or capricious. She had thought him to be as sure and steady as her carthorses, faithful and unswerving in his loyalties. It troubled her that she had been so wrong in her reading of his character, and she was indignant on Rhiannon’s behalf. What troubled her the most was the effect it had on Rhiannon, who had become bitter and sarcastic, and less likely to trust anyone than ever. This hurt Nina, who had grown to have a real affection for the wild satyricorn girl and had welcomed the warmth that had grown between them. She dreaded the coming trial, for she greatly feared that those who had not come to know Rhiannon would find it all too easy to misconstrue her motives, and find her guilty.
At Sorrowgate, the young guard Corey clucked his tongue at the sight of Nina. ‘It’s no’ good,’ he said. ‘I think she’s right poorly.’
He opened the heavy iron door and Nina went swiftly in, drawing in her breath in dismay at the sight of Rhiannon, who lay restlessly on her pallet, breathing hoarsely. Her hair was wet with sweat, and hectic colour burned in her hollow cheeks.
‘How long has she been like this?’ Nina demanded, putting down her basket and going to sit beside Rhiannon, smoothing back her damp, tangled hair. She was shocked at the heat radiating from Rhiannon’s skin, and the way her eyes worked beneath her half-closed eyelids. Her lips were dry and cracked, and she moaned as she moved her head from side to side, seeking a cool spot. Nina looked for some water to give her, but saw that Rhiannon’s cup was empty and cursed under her breath. It was clear she was very sick.
Hamish, the other guard on duty, shrugged. ‘She cried out a lot in her sleep, but then, she always does. We thought nothing o’ it. It was no’ until we brought her breakfast that we noticed she seemed sick.’
‘Why did ye no’ send word to me?’
He looked sulky. ‘No’ paid to run messages.’
Nina drew her purse out of her belt and flung it at him. ‘Now ye are,’ she said tersely. ‘Now, get me some fresh water, and be smart about it.’
Hamish picked up the purse and stowed it away in his uniform, and went out, looking shamefaced.
Nina remembered she had brought a little bottle of goldensloe wine in her basket, and went to fetch it. She had to support Rhiannon’s head with her hand as she brought the bottle to her lips. Suddenly Rhiannon flayed out with her hand and sent the bottle flying, spraying the potent liquor everywhere. Nina cursed again, and wiped her face. Rhiannon was crying out, but her voice was so hoarse it was impossible to hear what she said. Nina remembered the last time she had tried to give Rhiannon medicine. Unwittingly she had been helping the Lord of Fettercairn’s skeelie to administer Rhiannon poison. No wonder Rhiannon was wary of accepting any cup offered to her in her fever.
Hamish brought water, and Nina bathed Rhiannon’s face and neck and hands, and filled her cup and held it to her lips. To her relief, Rhiannon did swallow a few mouthfuls, though her head fell back on the pillow, exhausted, afterwards.
‘Is there a healer here, at the prison?’ she asked the guards, who were watching from the doorway, their handkerchiefs over their mouths to stop themselves from breathing the tainted air.
Hamish snorted in derision.
Nina stood up. ‘I’m going back to the Tower o’ Two Moons. I’ll be back as soon as I can with a healer. Can ye keep her as cool as ye can while I am gone?’
‘We’re no’ paid to be healers,’ Hamish said brusquely.
‘I gave ye more money than ye would normally earn in a week,’ Nina said angrily.
‘No’ enough,’ Hamish said. ‘Dinna want to catch the fever.’
Nina held out her hand. ‘Then give me back my purse.’
Hamish snorted with laughter.
‘I’ll tend her,’ Corey said. He saw Hamish’s look and added quickly, ‘If I have the time. We’re right busy today.’
Nina accepted this with a set jaw, not having time to argue.
‘Better b
ring back a flock o’ them,’ Hamish said. ‘There’s fever all through the prison. Comes every summer. They call it the summer scythe, as it clears the decks right fast.’
Nina nodded, and went out hurriedly.
She went as quickly through the crowded city streets as she could, breaking into a run whenever there was a gap in the throng. The heat of the cobblestones struck up through the thin soles of her shoes, burning her feet, and perspiration prickled her skin. It was a relief to leave the stink and sweat of the streets behind her, and reach the forest that separated the palace and the tower. For the first time she realised what a difference the trees made in regulating the temperature, and wondered if the city folk begrudged the witches their cool green gardens.
Nina hurried to the eastern tower, where the Royal College of Healers was situated. She had a stitch in her side, and her breath came harshly, but she did not moderate her pace as she strode up the stairs, towards the top floor where Johanna had her quarters.
A door opened above her, and she heard a murmur of voices. Then someone came out on to the landing. Nina paused in surprise. It was Elfrida NicHilde, the Banprionnsa of Tìrsoilleir, followed closely by a tall fair man dressed all in black.
The NicHilde had turned to give her male companion a heavy pouch that clinked, and a sheaf of papers. ‘Ye will need to hire a ship too,’ she said. ‘One that is fleet and strong, for the sea is rough beyond the …’
Just then the man saw Nina, and reached out a hand to stop Elfrida, indicating the sorceress with a slight inclination of his head.
Elfrida stopped short, then turned her head. At the sight of Nina she gave a little start, but recovered herself at once.
‘Lady Ninon,’ she said. ‘How are ye yourself?’
‘Well indeed, Your Grace, and ye?’ Nina said.
‘Oh, very well, thank ye.’
‘I’m glad to hear that. Is it Neil, then, who is ill?’
‘Neil?’ Elfrida demanded. ‘No! What do ye mean?’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just … ye’ve been to see Johanna, Your Grace. I thought ye must be ill, or if no’ ye, then happen your son, or Iain …’
‘Oh.’ Elfrida relaxed. ‘No, no, we are all well. A little tired, perhaps, with all the bustle o’ the court. In general we live very quietly, ye ken.’
Nina scrutinised the Banprionnsa’s face closely. She did not look well. Her skin was pasty, with a faint sheen of sweat on it, yet she wore her plaid clasped close about her. Her eyes were too bright and darted about nervously, and she kept licking her dry lips. Her whole manner was tense and uncomfortable, as if she was in a hurry and unwilling to admit it. Nina frowned. ‘Are ye sure it is only tiredness?’ she asked. ‘There are some bad fevers about at this time o’ year. Are ye sure ye are no’ coming down with something, Your Grace?’
‘Quite sure,’ Elfrida snapped. ‘I am just no’ sleeping well. The heat … I am no’ used to the heat.’
Nina’s puzzlement grew. Tìrsoilleir, where Elfrida had grown up, had the warmest climate of all of Eileanan, and in summer was much hotter than Lucescere, which was built high on an escarpment and cooled by the constant breeze over the waterfall.
‘Is that why ye came to see Johanna?’ she probed. ‘For something to help ye sleep?’
‘Yes, yes,’ Elfrida said. ‘That’s right.’
‘She did no’ check you first, to see that ye are no’ sickening for something? For indeed …’
‘I told ye, I am quite well!’ Elfrida cried. As Nina took an involuntary step backwards in surprise, the Banprionnsa drew herself up. ‘I do beg your pardon,’ she said formally. ‘I did no’ mean to shout. I … I am rather tired. I think I will go and rest.’
‘Good idea,’ Nina said, trying not to feel affronted.
Elfrida walked down the stairs past her, nodding her head in farewell. The man in black followed her, acknowledging Nina with a polite nod. He had a face like an elven cat’s, with a pointed chin and narrow eyes that gleamed blue.
‘I hope whatever Johanna gave ye helps,’ Nina said. The Banprionnsa’s head snapped back round, her eyes wide and startled, colour flaring under her skin. ‘To sleep,’ Nina said.
‘Oh! Oh, yes. I’m sure it will.’ Then Elfrida went scurrying away down the stairs, leaving Nina feeling troubled.
She stood for a moment, remembering what Dide had told her about how uneasy Tìrsoilleir seemed under the righteous sermons of the new Fealde, and how angry Lachlan was with Elfrida for not keeping the country’s religious leader under stricter control. She remembered the way the tall man in black, who must be one of the Fealde’s pastors, had stilled the Banprionnsa with a mere gesture of his hand, and frowned. Their intimacy did not bode well for the freedom of religion clause of the Pact of Peace, which stated that all must have the right to worship as they saw fit.
Nina remembered the Banprionnsa’s edginess, the beads of sweat on her upper lip, her short temper and the nervous way she had clutched her plaid. She wondered why Elfrida wanted a ship, and why she had given her pastor such a heavy bag of coins. I smell an intrigue, she thought. I must tell Dide …
She went on up the stairs, still puzzling over the Banprionnsa of Tìrsoilleir’s behaviour. Then the door opened in answer to her knock, and all thoughts of Elfrida fled.
Dedrie had answered the door.
Nina stared at her in stupefaction. ‘What … what are ye doing here?’ she managed to say.
For a moment the lord of Fettercairn’s skeelie looked seriously discomposed. Her mouth gaped, her eyes grew wide, and her whole body stiffened. Nina saw her hands clench in her skirts, crushing them. The very next moment, all signs of discomfiture fled.
‘My lady! Please, do come in. Are ye here to see Mistress Johanna? She is just finishing a letter, she will no’ be a moment. Please, sit down. May I make ye some tea?’
‘I do no’ want tea!’ Nina said angrily. ‘Tell me, what do ye do here? I thought ye were in prison, awaiting trial with all the rest o’ the laird o’ Fettercairn’s henchmen.’
‘Oh, but I am no’ a henchman, my lady,’ Dedrie protested, opening her brown eyes wide. ‘I am a healer, and where else should a healer be but at the Royal College o’ Healers?’
‘But ye were arrested! Brought here to Lucescere to face charges!’
‘No charges were ever laid against me,’ Dedrie said in a hurt voice. ‘I’m naught but a poor auld skeelie. All I’ve ever done is try to help and heal, as a skeelie should.’
Nina groped for a chair and sat down. Her head was whirling with so many questions and accusations she could frame none of them. It seemed impossible that the weeping, furious woman she had seen manacled and under guard in Fetterness should be here, plump, rosy and smiling, in Johanna’s comfortable suite of rooms in the Tower of Two Moons. Nina’s dazed eyes took in the fact that Dedrie was dressed in the green robe of a healer, with the usual heavy pouch of powdered herbs and tools at her waist.
‘But how?’ she managed to say.
Dedrie smiled, and for a moment Nina saw a flash of malicious glee in her eyes. Then the moment was gone.
‘Indeed I do no’ ken why ye are so surprised to see me, my lady,’ Dedrie said, bustling about the room, swinging the kettle over the fire and laying out a tray with clean cups. ‘I have been here for more than a month now, helping Mistress Johanna with her work and attending lectures at the Theurgia.’ She laughed. ‘Och, I ken I’m auld for it. The bairns must think me a right auld biddy. It is interesting, though. The things I’m learning! I feel downright humble to be allowed in.’
As she spoke, she made tea and brought it to Nina’s hand. Nina took it and raised it to her lips, then suddenly put her cup down so roughly the tea spilt. She rose to her feet. ‘Where is Johanna?’ she demanded. ‘I need to speak with her at once.’
‘Och, she’ll be a while yet. Bide a wee, and drink your tea.’
Nina shook her head. ‘Ye think I want to drink aught made by your hand?’ she said coldly. ‘I am no’ such
a fool.’
Dedrie’s face suddenly turned ugly. She pressed her hands together before her, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Nina waited for the burst of words, but none came. Instead, after a moment, the skeelie gave her a pleasant smile, saying chidingly, ‘Och, there’s naught in there but rosehip syrup, chestnut flowers and honey, my lady. Ye fear I’d try to poison ye? Here in Mistress Johanna’s rooms? Why would I do such a thing?’
‘Why indeed?’ Nina answered.
‘Exactly! I have no desire to hurt anyone. I’m right happy to be here. Come, my lady, sit down, ye seem hot and ruffled. Would ye prefer something cool? I have bellfruit juice, or fresh lemonade …’
‘Nay. I want to see Johanna. I need to see her now!’
‘Very well, I’ll call her.’ Dedrie moved towards the inner door, then paused, looking back at Nina with a sharp, cold look. ‘Do try no’ to upset her,’ she warned. ‘My poor mistress has suffered much grief these past few months. She needs kindness and sympathy in these hard times.’
Nina opened her mouth to retort angrily, then closed it again, utterly dumbfounded. Dedrie smiled at her and rapped gently at the door.
‘Mistress Johanna? I’m so sorry to disturb ye, ma’am, but ye have a visitor.’
‘Coming!’ Johanna called back.
Nina heard rapid footsteps and then the door opened and Johanna came out. Nina was surprised at the sight of her. The last time she had seen Johanna she had been white and haggard, racked with grief over her brother’s death. Now she looked calm and content, with a dreamy smile on her face.
‘Nina,’ she said, and came forward, smiling. ‘Good to see ye!’
‘And ye,’ Nina replied, allowing herself to be embraced.
Johanna led her to sit down, asking her how she was, and Roden, and Iven, and Dide.
‘Fine, fine, they’re all fine,’ Nina answered distractedly.
Johanna acknowledged her words with a vague nod, then turned her head and smiled at Dedrie, saying, ‘Och, ye dear, ye’ve made us tea already. What would I do without ye?’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Dedrie answered, bringing Johanna a cup and then bending to arrange the cushions at her back more comfortably. ‘Are ye hungry? I have some little honey cakes here, or I could ring for some soup if ye like.’
