The Betrothed Sister (15 page)

The woods opened into a wide clearing and the stones that marked an old ship burial stood just as Princess Gunnhild had said. ‘See, I am right. It's somewhere here. The cunning woman's house is close. I feel it.' Thea stopped and gazed around her. ‘I think the path stops here.' She pointed into a stand of trees. ‘Look, a track continues over there.' She pointed into an avenue of beech trees, convinced that she discerned smoke floating up into the branches.

The cunning woman's low, lime-washed hall lay behind an ancient oak tree with spreading branches. ‘There it is,' she whispered to Gudrun. They stopped by the tree. Thea took a deep breath, wondering should she call out a warning of her presence? There was no need. A heartbeat later, the lady herself came out to greet them. She waited for them by the cottage entrance. Immediately Gudrun made a sign with three fingers behind her back. When Gudrun muttered, ‘Hail Mary, Lady of Grace, protect us,' Thea ignored her maid's fear and marched forward.

Ghost bounded up to the lady, raised his head, sniffed and retreated, barking and leaping around Thea as if a bee had stung him. He crouched low, making a strange gurgling sound in his throat that was not exactly a growl. ‘Stay, Ghost,' Thea urged, fearful now that the cunning woman had disturbed the hound. Gudrun drew closer and instinctively reached out for Thea's mantle.

The lady did not appear how Thea imagined a witch would look. She was not old, nor was she poor. Her linen dress was blue, a deep blue, and was attractively embroidered about the hem and neck with red threads set down in intricate patterns of interlaced swirls. A gold necklace hung about her neck, made up of gold discs or perhaps coins. Her hair hung in two thin braids below a plain, neat, white linen cap. She leaned on a stick that was carved with tree leaves but, although the cunning woman's braids were silvered, she did not look old. Her face was unlined and her eyes were hazel and kindly.

So this was Ragnar, Gunnhild's witch.

For a moment the lady said nothing. She gestured with her stick for them to come forward. They tentatively took a few steps closer. Ghost pulled back momentarily and bared his teeth.

‘So what is it you need, my lady? A love potion or a candle to make your lovers more loving?' The gentle laugh that followed possessed a light clinking cadence. It made Thea think of all those elf stories she had told the children on Flatholm. And for a moment she was sure she saw Prince Vladimir himself materialise before her, clad in a brown mantle with his glossy black hair spread about its hood and she was sure he held aloft a gleaming silver sword. He was smiling. His mouth opened to show gleaming white teeth. What was he trying to say? Was he warning her? As quickly as the vision formed it disintegrated. She was standing on the track with a witch staring at her.

Ragnar studied Thea's startled face and for a moment Thea felt uncomfortable. She slipped the leash about Ghost's collar. The act of bending concealed her nervousness.

The witch spoke again. Her voice sounded young. Perhaps witches never aged. ‘Come, my ladies, I know you require something. I see it in your countenance.' Thea stared at her, holding the leash so tightly that she was sure her fear must show. ‘Something is bothering the Lady Thea, I believe.'

‘You know who I am, witch?'

‘Yes, my lady, I know much that happens here. And I know your names, Lady Thea and her maid, Gudrun.' She smiled. ‘I live in the king's woods with his permission. I am the guardian of that ship burial over there.' Ragnar pointed into the trees. They both instinctively turned to follow her gesture. When they turned back she said, ‘Many come to me for cures and for advice. Some seek spells, others incantations. Some want a lucky token.' She looked into Thea's eyes. Thea drew back from her penetrating stare. ‘I think you want the future. I am right, am I not, my lady?' Thea nodded. She wanted more than the future. She wanted to make the future.

‘Well then, come inside. Bring the hound. Or, no, best leave him. He may not like the parts of the dog, the heart, the liver, and paws that I use in my cures.'

‘Ghost, stay by the entrance.'

Thea shuddered. There was no turning back. She slipped the leash over a post and Ghost growled again and sat still, marking a mother duck and her ducklings waddling towards the pond by the side of the witch's dwelling.

Once inside Thea and Gudrun sat together on a bench, their knees touching. Glancing nervously about the room Thea noticed a row of jars on a shelf opposite and shuddered at the thought of what else they might contain besides parts of pickled dog.

The woman's hearth was neat, she observed with a sharp glance. A rack of drying herbs released a pleasant scent of rosemary, thyme, fennel and hennebelle. She could not recognise the other aromatic smells discharged from a second drying line above the hearth. Her eyes slid along the fireside to a pot cast from iron, suspended from a bracket hanging to the right of the smouldering fire. Beside the pot she saw a great bronze basin. The witch must use this one for her conjuring. It was huge and decorated with a circle of naked dancing figures. Other forms engraved on its surface held drinking horns. Some dangled bunches of grapes. As Thea studied it, the bronze seemed to glow right at her. At length, she tore her gaze away and across the small room. Sunbeams from the window fell on an elegantly carved chest opposite. An opened silver-plated box sat on the chest, pouring out a heap of gold and silver jewellery.

‘I was polishing those when I heard you come. They are talismans. Step closer, my lady.'

Thinking of the vision she had earlier, Thea stood on shaky feet and crossed the hall room. She lifted a silver swan's foot hanging on a fine chain from the casket.

Lady Ragnar smiled. ‘It has chosen you. You will wear it in the lands of snow and summer meadow. Take it with you when you leave today. It will bring you good fortune, a fine marriage and many children.' She looked at Gudrun. ‘Now, girl, you may choose something.'

Feeling less jumpy, Thea found herself saying, ‘Gudrun, you must. You are here now and cannot deny Lady Ragnar's kindness to us.'

Gudrun rolled her eyes, but left the bench to stand by her mistress. Diffidently she reached into the casket and drew out a long cloak pin. She touched its apex and immediately drew her finger back. A spot of blood was blossoming on the tip of her pointing finger. Instinctively she sucked the crimson bead away. Thea lifted the pin, which was decorated with swirls that seemed to have no beginning and no ending. She gave it back to Gudrun. ‘'Tis beautiful.'

‘It is for your cloak, Gudrun. Be careful with it,' Lady Ragnar said with a smile hovering about her mouth. ‘The pin has its own life. Its name is Needle. You will journey far, child, and I think you will discover the love of a man who will bring you great joy and I suspect a terrible danger. Yours may not always be an easy pathway but do not worry because in the end you are promised great happiness.' She drew a breath after she spoke those words. The room grew silent. Motes of golden dust floated above Thea. She clasped the silver swan tightly in her hand and felt Lady Ragnar's gaze penetrating her heart.

At length Lady Ragnar said, ‘So, Lady Thea, why
do
you come here? I feel it concerns more than your own future. I sense your sorrow and loss. Perhaps in the telling of it you will find comfort. Sorrow can become happiness. Loss can turn into gain. Tell me your sadness; nay, it is anger, Lady Thea. Sit again and speak with honesty. Only then can I help you.' Tears were clouding Lady Ragnar's green-rimmed hazel eyes as if when speaking she had felt Thea's own anguish.

Thea and Gudrun returned to the seat below the window. Thea made a play of hanging her swan's foot about her neck and tucking it below her gown. What should she say? Where could she begin?

She began slowly. ‘I pray that I do not have unwarranted darkness in my heart, Lady Ragnar. I truly believe in justice.' Then she could not hold back. Her words tumbled out in a passion. ‘My father lost his kingdom. My brother Magnus died fighting to recover our lands. My brother Ulf is locked away in a castle in Normandy, a prisoner and he is only nine years old now. That is, if he still lives. My mother is as good as a captive. She is hidden from the world in a nunnery in England and she may not ever write to me. My grandmother is an exile. She has known suffering, too much of it. So, you see, I want help, Lady Ragnar. I want a spell, an incantation perhaps, conjuring words on a scroll, something that will make the king many call The Bastard, who is responsible for my family's sorrow, recognise his wickedness, the cruel hand he has dealt us, without thought for all those people of England who fought for my father and whose families now suffer exile and loss. I want a conjuring that will protect the weak, the poor, the landless and the needy from that Norman's evil doing.'

Ragnar sank down onto a stool beside her beautiful bronze basin. For a moment she looked at the small glow in the raised hearth. She leaned towards Thea and Gudrun, who grasped Thea's hand.
Stay strong, Gudrun,
Thea willed.
Do not falter now.

Ragnar spoke again. ‘A noble speech, my lady. I believe you mean every word of it. But, you see, change is the only sure thing in life. We are as pebbles on the earth's great beaches. We cannot turn tides. But, Lady Thea, wait for a moment. There may be something in the future that I can sense. I can show it, but I do not change the future.'

Ragnar took an urn from a shelf and dipped it into her water bucket. She poured the water into the bronze bowl and waited for it to settle. Sitting on a stool, she allowed her head to lower as she looked over it. Thea leaned in closer. The water was clear as a crystal casket, as pure as a flame glowing by a church altar, as calm as an angel's smile.

Yet, Lady Ragnar saw something in its surface. She studied it, her face serene. After a little time she looked up. ‘As he has destroyed one family, then his own will never live in peace. Sadly, sons can turn against fathers. His eldest son will become a warring prince. He will wield swords and shields. He will create blood and darkness against his father, the king. King William of England, Duke of the Normans, will not die a peaceful death.' She set the basin aside and held Thea's eyes with a stern look. She shook her head. ‘I do not need to curse that king. Listen to me, my lady. You must not attempt to tamper with fate. Let fate be and she shall find her way. We cannot save those who are already dead; may your father and your brother rest in peace. As for your little brother, he lives. Of this I am sure. And I promise you this. I shall pray to God and his angels for Ulf's safe keeping.'

Ragnar rose from her stool and said, ‘Now you must both return to the hall. Jarl Niels is my cousin but he will not like you visiting my home. May God and His holy angels care for you too, my dears; may the Sisters spin you a kind fate.'

Thea fussed with awkward fingers about her mantle. She pulled a silver coin from the sewing purse that hung from her belt. It was a special coin, one of several that the coiner Alfred had given to her once. She had concealed them in her travelling chest because her father's image was stamped on them. They were a legacy from the year he had been king. ‘Keep this, Lady Ragnar, and think about my father's journey to whatever heaven he travels towards; remember my brother Magnus too. I loved him dearly.'

Ragnar inclined her head and when she looked up Thea saw that her eyes were once again moist. The sorceress did not grant another word of comfort but Thea knew in her heart that her brother Ulf would one day return to his own family. Her hand flew to the swan's foot pendant. Everything that had fallen into chaos would fall once again into some new place and settle.

As they walked home a burden seemed to leave her heart and she felt lighter. Gudrun's colour had returned and she was smiling to herself, as if her heart held a secret. The bells from St Olave's monastery rang out. If they hurried they could slip into the chapel in time for Vespers. She would pray to St Theodosia that one day Ulf would return to their mother, who must miss her youngest son every day of her life.

‘Gudrun, we cannot leave the wheelbarrow behind. We'll push it back to the hall. Everyone will think we have stayed by the river all afternoon.'

‘She was not like a witch, my lady, not frightening at all.'

‘No, but put that cloak pin away. And do not wear it here. Remember never to speak to anyone of what you heard this afternoon, not even Padar if he returns to us. You don't want him to think you a superstitious ninny.'

‘No, never, my lady.'

After they had passed through the wicket gate set into the palisade, Thea glanced quickly along the pathway past the stables towards the kitchen building. She was surprised to see horsemen dismounting and grooms running forward to seize their reins.

‘Gudrun, look, leave the barrow there by the kitchen building. If Lady Ingar looks for us, the church is where she must discover us. It seems her visitors have arrived a day early and they do not look like her cousins.'

‘Oh, my lady, are we in trouble?'

‘None we cannot deal with. Go, Ghost, go and find your friends.'

She wiped the dust and grass stains as best she could from her gown and strode forward.

11

The estate church steeple rose up through the trees. Thea and Gudrun hurriedly made their way along a narrow pathway that servants usually took to the church. Thea breathed easily when they encountered no one. The bells stopped ringing. As they reached the porch they could hear the priest intoning. Apparently, Vespers had begun.

‘Let us slip into the back of the nave.'

‘Will they see us?'

‘Not if we are careful to keep out of Jarl Niels' sight, Gudrun.'

They never reached the nave. Lady Mary waylaid them by the porch. ‘There you are. We have searched everywhere for you. Important men have come seeking you.'

‘Come for me?' It was not the greeting she had expected. She had not considered for a moment that the horsemen she had seen were anything to do with her.