Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

‘I’m sure it’s not.’ I smiled at him and after a moment he grinned back. ‘So, you’ve managed to get away from them, and now you’re trying to get off the island?’

He frowned. ‘That’s right, but there’s much more to it than that.’ The frown deepened. ‘They seem to think my father belonged to some ancient family, and they wanted to make him a figurehead for men to rally round, only his enemies tricked him and they killed him.’

He appeared to recount that terrible fact with equanimity. I wondered how he would react when I told him about his mother. ‘And now, in the absence of your father, they plan to use you as a rallying point?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ he said slowly, ‘I reckon they do.’

I had no idea who these ambitious men might be. The important thing was that, to judge by his face, this boy wanted no part of their scheming. Besides, hadn’t he just run away from them? But it seemed wise to make sure. I hesitated, choosing my words, and then said, ‘Do you wish to join them and lead this faction?’

He said simply, ‘No.’ Then, watching me closely, he added, ‘Why? Do you know anything about them? There’s something, I can see it in your face.’

So I told him as gently as I could what these men who wanted so badly to advance him into prominence had done to his mother.

He went even paler, if that was possible, and he would have slumped to the ground had it not been for Sibert’s support. His eyes anguished, he said, ‘Are you sure?’

‘I found her body, and I went back to the village for help,’ I said, pity for him threatening to make my voice unsteady. ‘A man from the village identified her. There was no doubt.’

‘Why?’ he asked. The word was a sob.

‘I think it was because she knew the secret of why you had been taken to Ely and they feared what would happen if the truth got out,’ I said. The four guards had killed, or tried to kill, all those who had witnessed their actions, and I could not help but think they would have killed me, too, if they discovered that I knew about Gewis; after all, a young nun had been attacked because they thought she was me and she might very well have died had not her sisters woken up. If anyone from Ely had sought out Asfrior, as indeed I had tried to, there would always have been the danger she would tell them too much.

I had gone to find her. It was quite likely that I had precipitated her death. I did not tell the boy that. I was barely able to deal with it myself.

Slowly, he nodded. ‘I must go back to where they have buried her and tell her I am sorry that I abandoned her,’ he said slowly. ‘I will do so as soon as it is safe. And then. .’ His words trailed off.

‘What will you do?’ I asked him. ‘Where will you go?’

With a visible effort he brought himself back to the present. ‘I must get away from here,’ he said. ‘Now that you have told me what they have done, that makes them my enemies. They will cut me down as my father and mother were cut down if they know I am against them.’

‘You must-’ I began.

But just then there was a soft exclamation from Edild. ‘He is stirring,’ she said. ‘Lassair, come here — I need your help, for he must not twist and turn or he will tear the stitches.’

I hurried over to kneel beside her. Hrype’s eyelids were fluttering; she was right, he was about to wake up. ‘He’ll be able to tell us who attacked him!’ I murmured to Edild. ‘He hasn’t said a word so far, but-’

I heard Sibert speaking urgently to the boy. Then he was right beside me, whispering in my ear and speaking so fast that it was quite hard to make out what he was saying.

‘Sibert, slow down!’ I protested. ‘What did you say?’

‘I’m taking Gewis to Aelf Fen,’ he repeated. ‘He’ll be safe there, and he can hide out till he decides what to do.’

‘Where is this Aelf Fen?’ said Gewis plaintively from the door. ‘Where are you taking me?’

‘It’s where we live,’ I said, turning to look at him. ‘We all have family there, and Sibert will make sure you are well looked after. Sibert, are you sure you want to go?’ I added in a low voice. ‘Hrype’s just about to come round — don’t you want to stay and talk to him, just to reassure yourself he’s all right?’

Sibert muttered something but I didn’t catch it. He had gone white again, and there was sweat on his brow — was he really that squeamish? — so I thought it best to let him be. Besides, Hrype was starting to struggle, as Edild had predicted, and I had work to do.

I was only vaguely aware of the door closing behind them as Sibert and Gewis went out into the night.

My aunt and I worked over Hrype as he lay there on the straw mattress. Edild always stresses that a healer must be detached, with all their concentration fixed upon the needs of the patient, and that this is hardest to achieve when the patient is a friend or a relation. I had never appreciated until that night how difficult this could be. We worked so hard, Edild and I, and once when the wound started bleeding again and she couldn’t stop it she called out in anguish to her spirit guide and I really thought I could see her silvery wolf in the little room with us. I was tired and overwrought, however, and so perhaps it was just my imagination.

When we had done all that we could, we sat down on either side of him and Edild held his hand. He was calm now, the hectic flush of heat gradually lessening, and he was slipping in and out of sleep. I stared at him for a long time, and then I looked up at my aunt. She was not aware of my eyes on her and the expression on her face took me by surprise.

I realized, at last, something I had known deep down for some time: Edild loved Hrype.

I dropped my gaze. She had never breathed a word about what she felt for him, and presumably this meant she preferred to keep it to herself. Well, that was her choice. I would make sure she didn’t know I knew.

I got up and stretched, then slipped outside to the privy. I stood for a while in the quiet alley looking into the eastern sky. There was the suggestion of a lightening of the darkness; dawn was near. I wondered what the new day would bring. I was shivering — it was a cold night — and went back inside.

Hrype was awake. Edild held a cup to his lips, and he was sipping at the contents. She was speaking softly to him, and something she said made him smile. It was only a slight smile, but I took it as a good sign. I went to kneel at his other side. ‘How are you?’ I asked.

‘I will live, Lassair.’

I wasn’t sure how to reply, so I just said lamely, ‘Oh, good.’

His smile widened. Then he said, ‘Edild tells me I have you to thank for the fact that I am still here.’

Now I felt embarrassed and the hot blood rose in my face. ‘The stitches are a bit rough,’ I muttered. I knew I had hurt him terribly — the memory of how he had howled with pain before, at his own suggestion, I’d thought to give him the pain-deadening poppy draught was all too vivid — and to have him express gratitude was hard to take.

‘Rough or not, they stemmed the blood and stopped my life force running out of me,’ he said. ‘Lassair, I thank you.’

He and Edild were both staring at me, grey eyes and green eyes carrying the exact same expression. It was too much; I dropped my head, unable to look at them. The mood in the little room was full of tension, and I felt an urgent need to dilute it. I said, ‘Hrype, who attacked you? Did you see his face? Should we try to bring him to justice?’

There was a long silence, and I sensed something quite dreadful. Edild looked at Hrype and, all but imperceptibly, he nodded. Then he looked at me and said, ‘Sibert.’

I didn’t understand. Did he mean Sibert was to seek out the attacker and have him arrested? Or. .