Juliet Marillier - Heart's Blood

Brighid save us, the man was gaunt. His bones seemed to jangle as he settled himself on my other side.“Caitrin, daughter of Berach,” he said with a toothsome smile. “What a pleasure. Villagers scare you off, did they?”

“No, they let me in,” I said, realizing that I had in fact shown some courage over the last day or so. “I stayed down there overnight and came up this morning.”

“She’s working here,” Magnus said. “Scribing for Anluan.Trial period. Remember your manners, you two.”

“I’m happy to see you again, Brother Eichri,” I said.The presence of a holy man in this place of shadows and whispers was reassuring.

Across the table, Rioghan’s dark brows shot up to supercilious heights. “Brother?” he echoed. “He’s long since relinquished any claim to such a title. Eichri might more accurately be dubbed sinner, evildoer, transgressor, apostate, criminal—” He halted, perhaps seeing my expression.

“I thought the two of you were friends,” I said, shocked by his outburst.

“They are,” said Magnus, setting a platter of bread on the table. “They go on like this all the time. Don’t let it bother you.” He sat down beside Rioghan. “I heard you had a little problem with a mirror.”

“I did.” The memory made me shudder. “What it showed me was so horrible I’m afraid I bolted out into the herb garden and was violently sick. Fortunately, Lord Anluan was there and I was able to explain what had happened. He said he’d put away the mirror before I have to start the work again.”

I became aware that all eyes were on me with varying degrees of amazement in them.

“Have I said something wrong?” I asked.

“Only surprising,” said Magnus. “Go on, eat, it’s getting cold.”

I eyed the others. Magnus had dipped his spoon in his bowl, about to start. Olcan was helping himself to bread. Eichri and Rioghan were glaring at each other across the table.

“Do Lord Anluan and Lady Muirne eat separately?” I asked.

Eichri surprised me by giving a snort of laughter.

Magnus said, “They’d usually sup here with us. It’s a small household and we don’t stand on ceremony. But Anluan’s uncomfortable with folk from outside. He may not make an appearance tonight.”

“He will,” Rioghan said instantly. “I wager a gold piece to whatever you can offer, Brother.”

“He won’t,” Eichri retorted.“I stake the finger bone of a virgin martyr, Councillor.”

“A what?” I spluttered.

“Oh, he’ll have one,” Rioghan said. “He’s got all sorts.”

And when I took another look, I saw that the items suspended on the cord around the monk’s neck included an assortment of dainty bones. Maybe they were human and maybe they weren’t. It was one of many questions I knew I would not ask.

“By the way,” Magnus said, dipping a chunk of bread in his bowl, “Muirne’s not the lady of the house, though she may act as if she is.”This was directed to me.

He offered no further explanation, and it seemed inappropriate to ask for one. Perhaps Muirne was a kinswoman of limited means, the kind who often finds shelter in the household of a nobleman. That would go a certain way towards explaining her manner.

A slight stirring of the air; I glanced up to see the familiar gray-clad figure in the doorway, her large eyes on me. It felt curiously as if I had summoned her with my thoughts. She advanced into the chamber, going to the shelves and picking up a tray.

“He’s not joining us then?” asked Magnus.

“He’ll eat in his chamber tonight.” She brought her tray over to the table. “He’s weary. Out of sorts.” In a sequence of movements so neat and effortless that I could see they were part of an oft-repeated routine, she took up Anluan’s bowl and held it while Magnus filled it. She added spoon and knife to the tray. Magnus cut a wedge of bread; Muirne placed it neatly beside the bowl. Once or twice she glanced my way, and I could see in her expression that I was the reason for Lord Anluan’s absence. Muirne took her tray to the bench, picked up a jug, filled his lordship’s cup.

“Pay up, Councillor,” Eichri said, rubbing his bony hands together in glee. “Let’s see the color of your gold.”

Rioghan sighed, reached deep within the folds of the crimson cloak, and sent a shining coin spinning across the table into the skinny fingers. “It’s the same hue it was yesterday,” he said in resigned tones. “Brother.”

“I hope Lord Anluan will be feeling better soon,” I made myself say as Muirne headed for the door, intent on her mission. She left the chamber without a word. Perhaps she had not heard me.

“Ale, anyone?” asked Magnus, getting up to fetch the jug. He glanced at me. “Don’t mind Muirne,” he said. “We’re none of us accustomed to visitors. She worries about Anluan, doesn’t like to see him upset. She’s a good-hearted little soul.”

I was hungry; not surprising after what had occurred earlier in the day. Magnus and Olcan ate steadily, in the manner of people who have done a full day’s physical labor, but Rioghan and Eichri only picked at the small servings they’d been given. I expected Muirne to return and eat with us, since she had taken no provisions for herself, but the meal progressed and she did not come.

“You’re a fine cook, Magnus,” I said. The supper was somewhere between a soup and a stew, heavy on vegetables and light on meat, but seasoned with an interesting blend of herbs. “This is a delicious meal.”

“Enjoy it while you’ve got it,” he said.“Fresh provisions today. Now it’s steadily downhill until next time I pay a call on Tomas.”

“But you must grow a lot of things up here,” I ventured, thinking of the farming activities I had read about earlier.

“I do what I can. Olcan helps me.” Magnus dipped his bread into his bowl. “We’ve got chickens, a couple of cows, some other stock, and the vegetables, of course. Still, we can’t work magic.You a cook?”

“Not much of one. My sister used to do all that.”

“Your sister, eh?” Rioghan leaned back in his chair, examining me. “Is she made in the same mold as you, all curves and curls?”

I could not summon the light response required. Instead, Ita spoke in my head, her voice a derisory whisper: See the way men look at you? You’re made to be a whore, Caitrin. Be thankful Cillian wants to wed you.Without him you’d be headed down a path to ruin.

“ You’re upsetting the young lady, Councillor.” Eichri’s cavernous voice was stern.

“Maraid does look quite like me, only bigger,” I said. I must find a new line of discussion.“How long have you lived at Whistling Tor, Brother Eichri?”

They laughed, the monk, the councillor, Olcan and Magnus all together.

“Seems like forever,” Rioghan said in dour tones. “We’re sick to death of the fellow.”

“Too long,” Eichri said. “Yet, it seems, not long enough.”

There was nothing I could say to that, since I had no idea what he meant, only that it sounded very sad.“I—Magnus, you said something before that suggested . . . I don’t want to pry, but aren’t there any other folk living here, apart from yourselves, I mean? It’s such a big house. How can you manage without grooms, farmhands, people to wash clothing, scrub floors, tend to stock?”

Magnus broke a piece of bread between his big capable hands.“It’s just us,” he said, glancing around the table. “Us and the ones out in the forest.”

“That makes you a delightful surprise, Caitrin,” Rioghan put in. “Our dusty old web has caught a splendid butterfly.”

“As to how we manage, a man does what he has to,” Magnus said.“We work hard.”