Alys Clare - Mist Over the Water

Today it was not Bermund to whom I had to address my request but Lord Gilbert himself, sitting on a bench by the fire in his great hall in the midst of his family: red-faced, bulging paunch pushing against the rich crimson cloth of his tunic, mouth stretched in a happy smile. After the usual courtesies — he struggled to remember who I was, and then immediately asked after my father, who supplies him with the finest eels — he told me to state my business, and I did so.

At first I thought he was going to refuse; to his credit, he seemed well aware that quite a few were sick in Aelf Fen just then. Happily for me, his wife, Lady Emma, sat beside him, her little boy playing with a wooden sheep at her feet and her baby girl in her arms. Lady Emma smiled at me in a conspiratorial way and then, turning to her husband, said softly, ‘My dear, we are blessed in that we have not one but two healers here in our village. The younger, Lassair here — ’ her dimples deepened as she smiled at me again — ‘is already skilled, but she has much to learn.’ How right she was. ‘To me it would appear that it can only serve to increase both her experience and her confidence to go on this pilgrimage of mercy to aid her kinsman, and the consequential augmentation of her skills can only be of benefit to all of us here in the manor. Do you not agree, my love?’ She has a dainty way of putting things, even if it does take a few moments to understand exactly what she is saying.

Lord Gilbert had been staring at me indecisively but, at his wife’s appeal, his face cleared and he said, ‘Yes, yes, quite right, my dear wife, quite right!’ Wise man to agree, especially when it was so very clear that she was far more intelligent than he was. Still, that applied to most people. ‘Off you go, er-’

‘Lassair,’ supplied his wife.

‘Lassair, yes, yes, Lassair!’ Lord Gilbert beamed at me. ‘You and the young man-?’ He looked hopefully at his wife and she supplied the name. ‘Sibert, yes. You and Sibert have my permission. Go safely, treat your brother-in-law-’

‘Cousin,’ said his wife.

‘-Your cousin, and come back to us when you can,’ he finished. Then, with a wave of his fleshy hand, he dismissed me.

I was ready, or as ready as I was going to be. I don’t know how I appeared to others, but inside I was nervous and fearful, my confidence and my courage right down in my boots. Morcar was my cousin, my kinsman, and, although I did not know him very well, he was of my blood. His mother, my aunt, thought the sun rose and set in him. The weight of responsibility sat so heavily on my shoulders that it was all I could do to keep upright.

The heavy, leather bag of remedies that Edild and I had prepared stood, its straps neatly fastened, by the door. Sibert was going to carry it. Now I was fussing over my own small pack, stowing clean underlinen, a washcloth, the bone comb my brother Haward had made for me, the beautiful shawl Elfritha had given me, a spare hood. .

I sensed Edild’s presence behind me and turned.

‘Lassair, step outside for a moment, please,’ she said in a low voice.

My eyes flashed to Alvela, who was now sitting propped against the wall, her head on my pillow. She looked dazed, but she was awake. Sort of. I stood up and followed Edild outside into the sunshine of early afternoon.

‘You will have to leave very soon,’ Edild said, ‘for you must reach Ely before dusk or the gates will be locked. But there is something I must say to you before you go.’ She paused, gathering her thoughts, and I guessed she was going to impart some final advice as to how I should treat my patient.

I certainly did not expect what she actually said.

‘My mother — your Granny Cordeilla — tells the tale of our ancestress Aelfbeort the Shining One, who spoke with the spirits and learned from them. You remember?’

‘Yes!’ I said, almost indignantly. I remember all Granny’s marvellous tales, but I couldn’t help wondering why Edild was speaking of them just now, in this crisis where speed was so vital.

‘Good. You will recall, too, then that Aelfbeort bore a daughter, Aelfburga, who-’

‘She found Aelf Fen and led the people here,’ I interrupted eagerly. ‘It was a time of terrible peril and the people needed a safe refuge. Aelfburga’s mother Aelfbeort was beloved by the spirits and they taught her much concerning the deep, dark matters beyond the understanding of mortal kind. Because of that love they helped her daughter by showing her how to find the secret, hidden safe ways to Aelf Fen, where with their aid she constructed an artificial island in the black waters of the mere and-’

‘ They showed her how to find the safe ways ,’ Edild repeated softly, cutting off my river of words. I looked at her blankly. She gave a small tut of impatience. ‘Come on, Lassair, it’s not like you to be so slow.’

That hurt. Think , I commanded myself. Safe ways. The island of the eels. Helpful spirits. My ancestress. ‘You think the spirits will show me how to get to Ely?’ I demanded, my voice high with terrified excitement.

Edild smiled. ‘They might, but I don’t imagine their aid will be necessary since there are plenty of boatmen to row you over. No, Lassair. That is not what is in my mind.’ She looked at me gravely.

‘What is it?’ I whispered.

‘We already know that you are a dowser, able to find both water and also hidden objects through the medium of the willow wand,’ she said. She was right. It is a strange gift and, although I have used it from time to time, once in a matter of very great danger, I do not yet understand much about it. If I’m truthful, it scares me a little and I try not to think about it. ‘I have long wondered,’ Edild was saying, ‘if you may also have inherited the gift that the aelven folk gave to Aelfburga.’ She waited, her eyes alight.

‘You mean I might be able to find the safe ways across the fens?’ I demanded. She nodded. ‘Oh, Edild, but that secret is only known to a handful of the Ely monks, and they only reveal it when they have no choice!’ We had all heard the tale of William the Conqueror’s furious frustration when he could not get his great army across the treacherous marshes to put down the revolt that Hereward had led from Ely. The king had tried to build a causeway but it had collapsed, taking vast numbers of William’s men fully-armed to their watery graves. One of his knights then managed to slip across, and he bribed the monks to tell him the secret way. The more generous version said that the monks were not unanimously in favour of the rebel Hereward in their midst and revealed their precious secret in order to get rid of him. Either way, the Conqueror finally stormed across and took Ely, although Hereward got away.

Edild was regarding me steadily, and again I sensed that she was waiting for me to work it out for myself. ‘You want me to test out your theory.’ I hesitated. It seemed so extraordinary, but then my aunt Edild is an extraordinary woman. I smiled, for suddenly I knew what she was thinking as clearly as if she had spoken aloud. ‘You do, don’t you?’ She returned my smile. ‘You’ve been itching for an opportunity for me to test myself and now, when pure chance has summoned me to the very place, the moment has arrived.’ Another thought struck me. ‘But why didn’t you suggest that I have a go around here? There’s plenty of dangerous marsh and fenland all around the village — no need to go to Ely to look for safe routes over perilous ground!’

Her expression turned enigmatic. ‘Too easy, Lassair,’ she murmured. ‘You’ve lived here all your life, and I would wager a silver penny that you could skip over the tussocks all around Aelf Fen without even getting your toes wet.’