Read Snow White and Rose Red Online
Authors: Patricia Wrede
Snow White and Rose Red (9 page)
“What have these men done?” Rosamund asked in a shaky voice.
“I know not, yet I think ‘tis nothing good,” Blanche replied. “Didst thou know them?”
“I’ve seen their faces in Mortlak now and again,” Rosamund said. “But I never learned their names.”
“Nor I. Belike Mother will know; let’s go home quickly and tell her.”
This suggestion found favor with Rosamund, who had no more desire to remain so near the Faerie border than did her sister. Clutching their baskets of elecampane root and casting occasional nervous glances backward, the two girls started for home.
On the other side of the Faerie border, as the afternoon faded into twilight, the oakman Bochad-Bec met the water creature Furgen in their accustomed place beneath the oak. “Madini’s late again,” Bochad-Bec grumbled by way of greeting.
“She’s in a temper,” Furgen said.
“So is she always,” Bochad-Bec said in a sour tone.
Furgen’s pointed teeth gleamed briefly. “Hsst! She comes.”
“Why wait you here?” Madini demanded as she stepped out of the shadows. A sharp breeze accompanied her arrival, as if to give a physical sign of her rage. “Know you not that our plans are blown awry?”
“We agreed to meet here,” Bochad-Bec said. “And thou art late.”
“Bait me not, goblin!” Madini said in a cold, dangerous voice. “‘Tis not thy place to find fault with my ways.”
“‘Twas thou who set the time of our meeting,” Bochad-Bec pointed out, unrepentant. “And ’tis the sun, not I, that proclaims thy tardiness.”
“Perhaps thou wouldst give us all the news,” Furgen put in. “As yet, we’ve heard but a portion.”
“News! I’ll give thee news,” Madini said, her eyes kindling with renewed rage. “The wretched mortals have ruined all. Did I not bid you watch them close? Now see what’s come of your neglect!”
“Thus far I see little,” Furgen replied calmly. “Say on.”
“The dull-witted mortals, for what reason I know not, have done their spell-work in the light of day, ere we were ready for them,” Madini said. “An you had done my bidding, we might have been prepared. Now the spell has ensnared Hugh; Hugh, not John!”
“They are both too mortal for my liking,” Bochad-Bec said. “One or th‘other, it’s naught to me. Though I’ve said before that Hugh’s the greater danger.”
“Hugh can be dealt with at our leisure,” Madini said, her voice full of scorn. “Were it not for the Queen’s edict, John would be gone again ere now.”
“What matter, if he’s not in Faerie?” Bochad-Bec said stubbornly.
“Hast thou heard naught of what I’ve told thee for these many weeks?” Madini said. “His frequent passage back and forth doth stitch our realm more closely to the mortal lands with his every crossing of the border. Until he’s stripped of all things Faerie, or he’s dead or exiled by the Queen, his absence from the land but draws it further in. ‘Tis why I urged the Queen to keep him here, though his mortal blood is an affront I well could do without.”
“Hugh is mortal, too, and—”
“Hugh stays in Faerie! His blood, too, binds us, but at least he pulls the land no nearer to destruction. And make no mistake, ‘tis destruction Faerie faces if we slide unresisting to some union with the mortal world.”
“There’s some who’d quarrel with that claim,” Furgen commented.
Madini rounded on him. “An thou‘rt one, how is it thou art here? Or art thou of a different mind than formerly?”
“I’ve no great liking for mortals,” the water creature answered, unperturbed. “But this quarrel serves no purpose I can see. To return to matter of more moment: can we not turn Hugh’s mishap to our benefit?”
“How?” Madini snapped, but her tone was less hostile than it had been a moment earlier.
“Thus: canst thou not whisper i‘the Queen’s ear that it’s John’s travels in the mortal lands which have brought down this trouble on his brother’s head? For the Queen hath long favored Hugh, and ’twill not please her to think the elder son’s the cause of the younger’s misfortune.”
Madini’s eyes narrowed; suddenly she laughed humorlessly. “‘Twill serve, for now. But look you, John’s disgrace sufficeth not to satisfy me. I’ll have him in my power, he and his brother, to do with as I will. They’ll learn what follows when they presume to ape the ways of Faerie. ”
“So thou hast said,” Furgen murmured. “But I trust thou‘lt not forget our larger aims. Faerie’s of greater import than mere punishing of Hugh and John’s presumption.”
“‘Tis the same thing, thou web-footed fool! The mortal blood of the Queen’s sons is the last and greatest fetter that binds Faerie to the mortal lands. An they be dealt with, we can loose ourselves forever from the short-lived half-wits and their world.”
“So thou sayest,” Furgen said, even more gently than before. “I’d rest easier if I were more certain of it.”
“Believe it,” Madini commanded. “And in the future, keep a better watch upon these humans, that we may know more plainly what they’ve done. I’ll haste to the Queen, to put thy advice to work.”
Furgen nodded. He exchanged glances with Bochad-Bec as Madini swept into the forest; then the two lesser fay followed her into the shadows.
CHAPTER · FIVE
“Sometimes the girls stayed too long in the forest, and night overtook them there. Then they would lie down side by side upon the moss and sleep until morning. Their mother knew this, and knew, too, that no one would harm them. ”
THE WIDOW WAS GLAD OF THE ELECAMPANE Blanche and Rosamund brought home, but much disturbed by the tale that came with it. Interference with Faerie would, she was sure, bring no good to anyone in or around Mortlak. Furthermore, she suspected the identities of the two sorcerers her daughters had watched in the forest, and she had no more wish to run afoul of the Queen’s Astrologer than she had to trifle with the powers of Faerie. The Widow extracted from the girls a pledge not to try to do anything about the spell they had witnessed until they all had a better understanding of what could and should be done.
There the matter rested. The Widow and her daughters heard no rumors of Faerie hosts riding out of the woods to avenge whatever slight had been done them, nor was there more talk of Master Dee in the town than was usual. Still, the Widow kept her daughters close to home for several weeks, for she had learned caution in a hard school.
As November drew on and no portents came out of Faerie, the Widow sent Rosamund and Blanche into the forest once again. Though she remained reluctant to do so, she had little choice if she wanted a stock of Faerie herbs. Winter was drawing on, and with it the closing of the Faerie borders to humankind. Even among the Faerie folk there were few who could cross the border during winter; for mortals it was impossible.
So Blanche and Rosamund pinned hawthorn twigs to their bodices and set out. In addition to their gathering baskets, their cutting knives, and their balls of cord, each of them carried a flask of water and half a loaf of pease-bread, for they knew how dangerous it was to consume Faerie food or drink. They had no intention of joining the ranks of the travelers trapped in Faerie forever through forgetting such a simple rule.
They found the border and crossed it without incident. Rosamund smiled as the grey-brown of the November forest flickered into life and color. Emerald leaves shone sharp and distinct against a cerulean sky; the mottled trunks of beech trees stood clearly defined against the dark oaks that brooded beyond. Bees hummed about a fragrant hedge of lavender that filled a patch of crystalline sunlight, and in the dense shadows beneath the trees the ground was covered with a thick, springy moss the color of malachite.
The girls set to work at once, ranging up and down the boundary in search of the strange plants that grew only in the lands of magic: blue spearmint, crimson-leaved valerian, fairy bedstraw. They also harvested, though more sparingly, the common herbs which had crept over the boundary, for these gained greater virtue from the unusual setting in which they grew. Rosamund was so glad to be in Faerie once again that she roamed farther than was normal, and several times Blanche had to call her back.
The piles of fresh-cut plants grew large and awkward as the day went on, but Rosamund kept finding reasons to delay their departure. Only when the shadows began to darken with the coming evening was Blanche able to convince her reluctant sister that it was indeed time to go. Regretfully, the two girls packed their baskets with the tenderer items, made bundles of the rest, and started for the border.
They could not find it. At first they thought nothing of this; the edge of Faerie was often elusive, and they had never before had to search for it for long. But as the twilight deepened into darkness and still they saw no sign of the way home, they began to grow fearful.
“Dost thou think we’ve misjudged the time?” Rosamund said at last, voicing the dread that hovered at the back of both their minds. “That perhaps we’ve come too late in the year, and now must stay till spring?”
“I thought of that,” Blanche said in a voice that shook slightly. “But, look you, two years ago we gathered here early in December, and naught befell us. ‘Tis now but mid-November; I doubt the border would close so early or so fast.”
“Then why can we not find it?” Rosamund said. Now she sounded more cross than afraid.
“I know not,” Blanche admitted. “It may be some Faerie trick we’ve never seen before.”
“Well, there’s nothing for it but to look further,” Rosamund said, hefting her bundles.
“Not now,” Blanche objected. She gestured at the indigo gloom around them. “‘Tis near too dark to see; if we go on, we’ll lose one another in this murk, or wander deeper into Faerie. We must stay here until the morning.”
“Until morning! But what of Mother?”
Blanche sighed. “She’ll fret, but there’s no help for that. Unless thou canst produce a torch, or a path out of these woods,” she added with more sharpness than usual. Blanche was tired, frightened, and all too conscious of the responsibility that rested on her as the elder of the two.
An owl hooted twice, and was answered by the slow creaking of a tree branch. “Thou hast the right of it,” Rosamund said grudgingly, “though it likes me not.”
“Thinkest thou that I’m more fond of this than thee?” Blanche snapped. “Needs must, and there’s an end on’t.”
“Vent thy anger elsewhere,” Rosamund said in a tone as cross as her sister’s. “This is not my doing!”
Blanche opened her mouth to respond in kind, then closed it firmly. After a moment she said with credible calm, “I know, and I’m sorry for my temper. ‘Tis my fears that speak, and not myself.”
“Belike tomorrow we’ll have better fortune,” Rosamund said, trying hard to sound reassuring. “But how shall we sleep safe?”
Blanche frowned into the darkness. “If we say our prayers, no evil in Faerie will harm us,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Also, we’ve found valerian, and vervain, and herb-of-grace; we’ll lay them all around us to ward off Faerie folk. Mother will not grudge us some for such a purpose.”
“More likely she’d urge us to use them all,” Rosamund said with a small smile, for she was often impatient with her mother’s caution. “But ‘tis well thought of.”
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