The Gallows Curse (64 page)

    Ma
slowly pulled the jewelled pins from her hair and laid them one at a time on
the fur-covered bed. Elena shrank back as far as her bonds would allow, trying
to twist away, but

    Ma
took no notice. Freed from its pins, Ma's hair uncoiled by itself in a thick
rope slithering down over her shoulders, to curl itself up again in her lap. It
was as black as polished jet. From a tiny silver flask that hung at her waist,
Ma tipped a few drops of a musky-smelling oil into her palm and smoothed it
down the length of her hair. She pulled out a comb, fashioned from an ancient
yellowed bone.

    'You
know what this is?' Ma didn't wait for an answer. 'It's the comb they used to
anoint the ancient kings and queens of this land when they were crowned. Always
remember that gold and silver are but as worthless as bird grit, unless you
have the power to control others.'

    She
began to comb the oil through her thick hair, fanning it out like great black
wings on either side of her head. Only then did Elena notice that the centre of
her scalp was completely bald, as if she had been tonsured.

    Without
any change in tone, Ma said, 'Talbot found you near the church of St Helen.
It's lucky for you that he discovered you before the sheriff started the
search. Only minutes before, mind, for the soldiers were already rushing down
that road towards the bridge as he was carrying you home.'

    Ma
began to twist her hair, round and round, tighter and tighter.

    'They
say he died instantly, a stab in the back between the ribs right up into the
heart. It was well aimed, my darling'

    Who .
. . who died?'

    The
oily gleaming hair was tightly coiled up on top of Ma's head once more. She
began to pierce it with her pins, slowly, one at a time, with a practised hand
that required no mirror to guide it.

    'Hugh,
my darling, but you know that. It was your hand guided the knife.'

    Elena
started up but the leather straps pulled her back. 'No, no, I didn't, I swear.
I couldn't have . . .'

    'You
wanted him dead,' Ma said calmly.

    'But
I couldn't have done it. How could I have got outside?'

    'But
you
were
outside. Talbot found you. And the gate in the cellar was
open.'

    'But
I didn't open it. It was too heavy. I could only raise it a little way when
Finch . . .'

    She
stopped, seeing the hard, cold smile spread across Ma's face. 'So you lied. You
did help Finch escape and now you want me to believe that you didn't murder
Hugh.'

    'All
right... I did help Finch. But I couldn't raise the gate enough to loop the
rope around the bar. If I'd been able to, I would have gone with him. I
wouldn't have stayed here for one single hour longer than I had to. Maybe I
would have starved out there, like you say Finch will. But I wouldn't have
cared, anything ... anything would have been better than being a filthy common
whore!'

    Ma's
hand moved so fast that Elena only caught the blaze of the jewel on the pin as
it flashed before her eyes. The pin stabbed right through her ear lobe,
fastening her to the bed. She squealed in pain, struggling desperately against
her bonds.

    Ma
regarded her with interest, as a small boy might watch a beetle he has impaled
on a thorn.

    'A
priest once told me, my darling — yes, I've entertained many priests in my time
— that in the days of the ancient Israelites, if a slave was offered his
freedom but wanted to stay a slave, his ear was pierced as a sign. No girl in
this stew is a whore, my darling, unless she chooses to be one. Every woman
here sells what talents she has, and that makes her an artist, a merchant of
goods. She does no more or less than a scribe, a musician, or a trader in holy
relics. Only a woman who lets a man take her because she is afraid of him, or
of making her own way in the world, makes herself a slave and a whore. More
whores have graced the noble marriage beds of Europe than ever worked in
brothels.'

    Elena
was whimpering with pain, but with her hands bound she could not pull the pin
out. Ma picked up the last pin from the bed and ran the sharp point lightly
across Elena's face. Elena screwed up her eyes, sick with dread, but she
couldn't even turn her head away for the pin ripped at her earlobe.

    'So
you went out last night,' Ma said softly. 'What do you remember? Tell me.'

    'I
had ... a dream, but that's all it was, a dream.'

    'Ah
yes, another dream, my darling. And in this dream you killed Hugh.'

    'No,
no,' Elena protested. 'In my dream a man was dead. But I don't know who it was
... his face, it was ... I was holding a knife, but I didn't stab him. You have
to believe me.'

    'I
told you, my darling, the first night you came here, that I don't have to
believe anything. And the undeniable fact is Hugh is dead. You wanted him dead.
You were found outside in the streets. You remember seeing him dead and you
remember holding the knife.'

    'But
I couldn't have got out, Ma. I couldn't lift the gate. It's too heavy.' Elena
was almost sobbing. Her ear was burning, and her head throbbing. She remembered
nothing clearly enough to make sense of it.

    Ma
reached over and slowly pulled the pin from Elena's ear. Elena gritted her
teeth against the pain, feeling the warm trickle of blood run down her skin and
pool wetly behind her neck.

    Ma
wiped the scarlet blood from the pin on her gown and slid it back into the
coils of her black hair.

    'I
knew a woman once. Beasts pulling a wagon were spooked and broke into a gallop,
the wagon toppled over and fell on her little son, pinning him by his legs. He
was screaming, and before any of the neighbours could reach him, his mother had
got hold of the wagon and lifted it off her son. Not even a man could do that
by himself.

    'Fear
and hate can lend a woman strength greater even than a blacksmith. You had a
reason enough to hate. I saw it in your face the night he finished with Finch
and again when he took you. I'd not condemn any woman for taking a knife to a
man who deserves it. In fact I'd admire her spirit. But this is serious, my
darling. Osborn will turn this town upside down looking for his brother's
killer. Too many men saw Hugh at the brothel just hours before. There will be
some who'll be too ashamed to admit where they were and so will keep silent,
but others will not care if it be known where they went, especially if a heavy
purse is dangled in front of their eyes.

    'Talbot
and I can talk our way out of this, but we can't have Osborn questioning you.
One of my whores, already a fugitive from justice, has killed two noblemen. If
they ever discover you killed them, they'll accuse Talbot and me of luring them
here, maybe even paying you to do it. We'll all hang together and I've no
desire to get my neck stretched. I can't risk you being caught and questioned.
You'll have to stay down here, hidden. The girls already believe you've run
off, and will say so if asked, but you'll have to remain here and stay quiet.
Talbot's fetched your things.'

    She
nodded to the corner where Elena could dimly make out her small bundle.

    Elena
nodded. 'I swear I'll stay hidden. But please, don't make me stay like this.
Please untie me and I promise I won't make a sound or try to get out.'

    Ma
hesitated. She glanced over at the mask on the wall which was her eyes into the
guest hall. She crossed over, climbed the steps in front of it and, after
briefly glancing out, she swung the wooden shutter across it and latched it.

    Then
she returned to the bed. Standing at the end, her short stubby arms wrapped
across her ample breasts, she frowned at Elena.

    'I'll
release you, but you stay quiet and keep away from that.' She pointed to the
shutter. You make a single sound, or open that shutter, or make any attempt to
leave this room, and I will cage you with the other wild beasts. You'll be in
good company, for they are man killers too.'

    
Hare
— It is unlucky if a hare crosses the path of a mortal, and if he is setting
out on a journey or to take to the seas in a boat, he must turn back and not
venture forth that day. If a pregnant woman should chance to see a hare, her
child will be born with a harelip. If a man dreams of a hare it is a certain
sign his enemies are plotting against him. The name of the creature is never
uttered on a ship for fear of raising a storm and if an enemy wishes to curse a
ship, he will hide on board a hare's foot and then that ship shall surely
founder.

    But a
hare's right foot if worn or kept on the person will ward off the aches of age
in the limbs or the cramps.

    If a
lover deserts a maid and she dies of grief, she will be turned into a white
hare. Witches can, at will, turn themselves into hares, and in this form they
will sit upon a cow's back and milk her dry, and likewise they will dry the
milk of sheep, and in the form of a hare do great mischief on the farm. A
witch- hare may only be killed with a silver knife or silver arrowhead, and if
a hare is wounded then escapes, mortals search the village to find a woman who
is similarly injured and then they know her for the witch.

    But
once, long ago, when the old gods ruled the land, the hare was honoured and no
mortal man could harm her or eat of her flesh, for she signified the return of
spring and was sacred to the goddess Eastre.

    As
with mandrakes, those women with gifts that men cannot control, men fashion
into witches and demons, that they might destroy them.

    The
Mandrake's Herbal

    Down
in Ma's hidden chamber, Elena heard the bell tolling in the guest hall and
moved closer to the hollow mask on the wall. She dared not open the shutter
which covered the mask for she guessed the light from the candle in Ma's
chamber would shine out of the eyes of the mask and give her away. And she was
too afraid of being left in the dark to extinguish the candle.

    Elena
had not been permitted to leave the chamber since Ma had hidden her here. She
could only count the passing of the hours by the guest hall bell. She knew it
must be evening when the bell in the guest hall began to toll repeatedly as the
customers arrived and then later she would hear the great door opening and
closing as one by one they left. But as far as she could tell it was morning
now, too early for customers. Was it the sheriff's men? Her heart began to
race.

    So
she pressed her ear against the wooden shutter, but she could hear little
except Talbot's deep growl. No words of any visitor, which meant there was only
one of them, she thought. If there were a group of men in the guest hall, she
would surely hear them. The sheriff wouldn't come alone.

    The
trapdoor grated above Elena's head. She tripped and almost sprawled headlong in
her effort to get back on to the bed before Ma descended the ladder. But there
was no creaking of the ladder.

    Instead,
Ma put her head through the hatch. 'Come here, my darling.'

    Elena
crept over to the foot of the ladder. Ma's face peered down at her, as
distorted as one of the grotesques on the wall.

    'Hurry
up, my darling, you have a visitor.'

    Slowly,
still trembling, Elena mounted the steps and emerged in Ma's chamber. Talbot
was standing in the doorway.