Ruth Downie - Tabula Rasa

Tilla let him lead her down past a half-ruined farm building. After some exploring, during which Dismal appeared to be lost but was not going to admit it, they found a place where they could jump the horses over a tumbled section of wall. They scrambled down a bank and cantered north, following a broad track that was in unusually good repair along the course of the stream. After a couple of hundred paces it curved into a large cleared area where the side of the hill had been hacked away. Part of the cliff had tumbled into a steep slide of loose earth and rock. She held the horse back, gazing up at it. This must be what her husband had climbed across to rescue Valens’s father-in-law.

How simple everything had seemed just a few days ago, when the biggest problem of her afternoon had been the thought that her husband would be late for supper. Now they were both out hunting for other people’s missing children and she had no idea where he was or whether anything would ever be quite the same again.

“Miss!”

The voice made her jump. She recognized the man who had led the search party: What was his name? Daminius. But instead of telling her to clear off out of the quarry, he was slipping his work hammer into a loop on his belt and asking, “Any news about the boy, miss?”

“They would have sounded the horn,” she told him. Since he was free, she supposed they must have decided he had nothing to do with Branan’s disappearance. “Have you seen my husband?”

“I heard he was going to Vindolanda.” There was something about the man’s expression that said there was more, but all he said was “Keep well clear of the landslide, miss. Just in case.”

She explained about the search for Aedic, and he nodded. “There’s a big clump of bushes up toward the wall where they’ve got the scaffolding. About a hundred paces east of the stream. He sometimes hides there.”

“You know him?”

“Warn him to watch out. Most of the lads know he’s harmless, but my replacement might think he’s a spy.”

“Your replacement? Are you being sent away?”

The optio shrugged, and she thought there was a slight flinch, as if he had disturbed a forgotten injury. “This is the Legion, miss. You never know.”

“I wish you well,” she said, and meant it. She was about to ride on when she noticed what was hanging around his neck. “Did you lend that to my husband?”

He picked up the little winged phallus and grimaced. “I don’t know what he did to it,” he said. “I’ve had nothing but bad luck ever since he got his hands on it. Miss, are you the one who helped Fabius’s kitchen maid?”

He was a man full of surprises. How did he know that? She wondered whether he knew about the girl’s plea for a charm against pregnancy. “I have met her. Why do you ask?”

From across by the little hut, a voice shouted, “Hey! Are you working or talking?”

“You might not see her again,” he said. “Her master might send her away. I thought I should tell you she was very grateful.”

Then, before Tilla could ask what was going on, he said, “I hope you find both those boys soon, miss,” and went back to work, twisting the hammer out of his belt as he walked.

Tilla crouched down in front of the bushes, which stank of urine. “I know you’re there,” she said gently. “I can see your foot.”

The foot was snatched back out of sight.

“I just want to talk to you,” she said.

There was a scuffling from somewhere amongst the leaves. Dismal shouted a warning and she sprang to her feet, catching sight of a small figure scrambling away from her up the hill, then veering to the left as if he were trying to get down to the stream. She grabbed fistfuls of skirt and ran after him. Dismal rode round to cut him off. The boy realized the danger and changed course like a startled animal, running back across the slope, trying not to get trapped against the wall. Tilla managed to intercept him and there was one of those silly dodging games with him feinting to one side and then trying to run in the opposite direction. Dismal closed in. Finally she flung herself at the boy and they ended up rolling down the damp hillside in a flurry of arms and legs and skirts.

When they had disentangled themselves Tilla said, “Your knee is bleeding. Let me look.”

The boy did not even spare a glance at the hole in his trousers. He was keeping a wary eye on Dismal. He whispered, “Is that him?”

“Who?”

The boy did not answer.

“You must be Aedic. I am Darlughdacha. Tilla for short.”

Again, no answer.

She said, “That man is with me. Does he look like someone you’re afraid of?”

The boy nodded. That was progress.

“You are safe with me,” she assured him, but he was still watching Dismal’s every move and bracing himself, ready to run. Tilla called to Dismal not to come any closer. “You see?” she told Aedic. “He won’t hurt you while I’m here.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” she told him. “Is the man you are afraid of one of the soldiers?”

For a moment she thought he was refusing to answer again. Then she heard, “He got Branan. Now he’ll come for me.”

“Who is coming for you? That man there, or someone like him?”

He said, “He put a body inside the wall.”

“You saw him do it?”

“I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t my fault!”

“I know,” said Tilla, placing one hand over his. “Tell me about the man.”

“I can’t,” the boy mumbled. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know what he looks like. It was too dark.”

Tilla felt her shoulders slump. She had spent a whole day tracing the source of the rumor, and now she had found him, he knew nothing that was of any use at all. “Why did you say it was Branan who saw him?”

The boy became agitated. “I didn’t mean to do it! I didn’t mean any harm! He was hurting me!”

“The man?”

The boy shook his head violently. “Matto.”

“So you told Matto something to make him stop hurting you?”

“Mam said you shouldn’t tell lies. But Mam’s in the next world and there’s only Petta, and Petta doesn’t like me.”

“I don’t think it’s just you,” said Tilla, who had the impression that Petta didn’t like anyone.

He said, “Is it true people can pass through from the next world at Samain?”

“I have never seen it,” Tilla confessed. The meeting she longed for with her own family had never happened. No one could tell her how to find the hills that opened at Samain to let the living go inside. All she could truthfully say was, “I think they can see us and they watch over us.”

“Do you think Mam can see me?”

“I’m sure she can,” Tilla assured him. “My family are all gone to the next world too. Perhaps they have met.”

He said, “I thought she might come tonight.”

“And so you wait for her here, where you used to live.”

He nodded.

“I think she will know where to find you wherever you are,” she told him, pushing away the fear that she had deserted her own ghosts by following the army. There was no time to dwell on that now. “But she may not be able to come to you. Were you here waiting for your Mam when you saw the man with the body?”

He shrugged. “I s’pose.” He looked at her. “All of your family?”

“All of them. The Northerners came raiding.”

There was no need to explain further: Even a child of this age had heard the stories. He said, “Are you still sad?”

“It is an ache that I carry inside me wherever I go,” she told him. “But I am still glad I have my life here. I do not want to join them before my time comes.”

He nodded thoughtfully. They sat in silence for a while. Dismal, still keeping his distance, allowed the horses to graze. The sun was sinking in a clear sky and a chilly breeze rattled the bushes.