Alys Clare - The Enchanter's Forest

Josse’s first impression was of vigour and glowing health; it was only at the second glance that he noticed the man had to be all of sixty, for the leathery skin of his beaming face was deeply lined and his long, smooth hair and neatly groomed beard were perfectly white. He was dressed in a flowing robe the colour of a clear evening sky.

He threw open his arms and had enveloped Joanna in a warm embrace; ‘Beith,’ Josse heard him mutter, ‘Beith, how good to see you returned to us!’ Then he added something in a low voice that Josse did not catch.

With the old man’s arm still around her shoulders, Joanna turned to indicate Josse. ‘Huathe, this is Josse. And Meggie of course you already know.’

The white-haired man put out a hand and gently touched Meggie’s round cheek; she gave him a coy smile. ‘Yes, indeed. You, little one, are growing well.’ Then, turning intent blue eyes on to Josse, he said, ‘Josse. I am very glad to meet you.’

There was quite a long pause, during which Josse felt as if various bits of him were being inspected individually. It was a weird sensation, as if careful probes were being sent through his head and chest. He made himself stand quite still and tried hard not to resist the gentle inspection. His response must have been the right one for, after a few more moments, the white-haired man nodded, stepped forward and embraced both Josse and Meggie, still held firmly in her father’s arms. Then, standing a little away, the man said, ‘I will let it be known that you are to be given every courtesy while you are here with us. Welcome to Folle-Pensee.’

Feeling that he ought to make a reply, Josse said, ‘Thank you — er — Huathe.’ Was it all right to call him by that name? Then he held out his hand which, after a pause and a quick smile, Huathe took in both of his own. The old man’s skin was firm and cool — Josse was put in mind of Sister Euphemia’s touch when she tested a hot forehead for fever — and somehow the sensation was instantly reassuring.

‘I will show you to your accommodation,’ Huathe said. He led them to one of the shelters that stood on the far side of the clearing, a short distance away from its nearest neighbour. Opening the door, he ushered them inside.

‘We eat our evening meal when the sun goes down,’ he said. ‘Until then, make yourselves comfortable; feel free to walk in the forest if you wish, although I would suggest that you do not stray too far.’

With no explanation as to why they should not, Huathe gave them both a nod, then, pulling the door to behind him, left them alone.

Josse put Meggie down on the clean-swept, beaten-earth floor, then turned slowly round as he looked about him. The hut was simply furnished: a wooden-framed bed topped with a straw mattress and some blankets; a long, low table; a bench; a stone circle in which firewood and kindling had been laid ready; a shelf on which were some pottery mugs, a jug and a pair of horn-handled knives.

And that was all.

Josse noticed that Joanna appeared to be waiting for him to comment. With a smile he said, ‘It’s delightful. It reminds me of your little hut in the forest. It smells the same — your people are so clean, I imagine that all their dwellings are full of the scent of herbs and growing things.’

She looked flatteringly pleased by his small compliment. ‘Yes they are,’ she agreed. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ Then, unfastening her pack, she said, ‘I want to wash out some of Meggie’s and my clothes, then I’m going to bathe.’

He sensed that an unspoken invitation hung in the air. Aware of having worn the same undergarments for rather too long, he said, ‘Is it all right if I do the same? I have a change of linen in my pack.’

‘Of course.’ Then, blushing and for all the world like some urban housewife, she said, ‘Give me the garments; I’ll launder them for you.’

She took him outside and showed him to the place where the people bathed. A stream came hurrying down out of the forest and a pool had formed where an upthrusting band of rock ran across the stream bed. Josse stood hesitant on the edge of the water; Meggie was already wriggling out of her clothes.

Joanna laughed softly. ‘It’s all right, Josse. Everyone bathes here and the sight of a naked body isn’t going to upset or embarrass anyone.’

Except me, he thought. But Meggie was paddling into the water and it looked as if it might be quite deep on the far side; Josse quickly removed tunic, shirt and hose, then, trying not to think about it, waded into the pool after his daughter.

When, having finished her washing, Joanna joined them there some time later, Josse had forgotten his awkwardness and was thoroughly enjoying himself. Even the presence of others did not spoil it; Joanna nodded a greeting to the man, the two women and the youth who came to bathe with them and Josse, copying her, did not so much as glance down to make sure that the water adequately concealed his private parts.

Out there in the wildwood, it just did not seem to matter.

Twelve of them, including Josse, Joanna and Hauthe, sat down to eat the evening meal. They sat on benches and on the ground around the wide outdoor hearth. The food was simple — flat bread, goat’s milk cheese, small, sweet onions and a dish of mixed stewed vegetables strongly flavoured with garlic — but there was plenty of it. Accompanying it was cider out of earthenware jars, sparkling and sweet and fragrant with the strong scent of apples.

When the food had been cleared away, Huathe signalled that the people should stay where they were. Then he rose to his feet and walked forward to stand beside the embers of the fire, roughly in the middle of the circle of his audience. Then he said, ‘Here are Beith and her daughter Meggie, who were with us in the early spring of last year. With her is Josse, who has accompanied her from England. All three are our guests and are to be accorded a welcome.’ There was a brief murmur of conversation and Huathe waited until it had died down before continuing. ‘They have come for a particular purpose, which I shall now outline to you.’

Joanna had been prepared for something like this. Knowing the ways of her people as she was beginning to, she had expected that the unusual mission that had brought her and Josse to the Broceliande would not be treated as some hushed-up secret. They had not broadcast it back home in the forest but then the community there was so very much more numerous. . She waited to hear what Huathe would say.

His announcement was brief and to the point: ‘An unscrupulous man is making money fraudulently,’ he began. ‘In a forest in the south of England, he claims to have found the bones of Merlin.’ There was a gasp from someone in the circle, quickly suppressed. ‘He has invited the credulous to view the bones, implying that their various hurts and sicknesses will be cured. There is a charge for viewing this grave and all profits are going into the young man’s pocket.’ Indicating Josse with a wave of his hand, Huathe went on: ‘The man Josse here represents the Abbey of Hawkenlye, a place where the needy receive genuine care. The rival attraction referred to as Merlin’s Tomb is taking people away from the Abbey’s true healing to seek help where there is none to be had.’

Huathe paused to let his people digest what he had told them so far. Then he said, ‘It has been decreed that we show Josse the place in the forest here that is commonly known as Merlin’s Fountain and which, according to local legend, is the true burial place of the great enchanter.’

‘But-’ a man’s voice began.

Huathe turned to face the speaker. ‘Yes? You wish to comment?’

‘The spring of Barenton is Nime’s place,’ the man said nervously. ‘It is she who blesses the precious water and whose power we feel up there.’