Thorn Boy and Other Dreams of Dark Desire (27 page)

‘
Your
wait will not be in vain,’ she said, gazing into the
distance.

Tatters
thought she must mean the mushrooms. He spoke about not being able
to find any.

Charlaise
laughed aloud. ‘Dance for me,’ she said, and played a merry
air.

Tatters’ limbs
could not disobey the summons of the music. He danced and the geese
danced with him. White feathers floated up around him into the
air.

Time passed
like a dream, and hundred thousand images seemed to flash through
Tatters’ mind. He saw places he had never seen.

By the time
Charlaise took the flute from her lips once more, the sun was high
in the sky. Tatters sank to the ground, exhausted. ‘I shall be late
now,’ he said.

‘
Then
you’d better be going,’ Charlaise answered nonchalantly.

‘
But the
mushrooms...’ Tatters looked around himself, helpless.

‘
Look
properly, then you shall see,’ said Charlaise.

Tatters left
her and scrambled up the hill. In the next field, he came upon a
carpet of white mushrooms, which he was sure hadn’t been there
before. As he picked them, he heard the sound of Charlaise’s flute,
drifting idly as if from far away. It was in this manner that she
educated him about life.

Tatters came
home from the fields to great excitement. Everyone was chattering,
standing idle at their tasks. As usual, nobody would answer his
questions when he asked what had happened, so he went in search of
Mussy. He found her plucking herbs in the garden.

How old she
looks now, he thought, and was pierced by a cold dart that was
presentiment of the time when she would no longer be on this earth.
Who would care for him then? He ran to her side. ‘What’s happening,
Mussy?’

‘
Ah,’
she answered, straightening up, a hand to the small of her back.
‘Today a messenger came from the house of Duke Orvember. Oh, such
finery he wore! It brought back memories of happier times.’ Mussy’s
face took on a dreamy expression. ‘Why, I remember when your
grandfather...’

‘
What
was the message?’ Tatters interrupted quickly, to bring her back to
earth.

She looked at
him askance. ‘There is to be a great celebration. Duke Orvember
thinks it is well past the time for his eldest son to marry, so he
has organised a Great Event, to which all the nobility are obliged
to take their daughters. Orvember will himself choose a bride for
his son. Such was always the way at one time, of course. Everyone
of importance will be there. It will be a splendid occasion.’ She
sniffed. ‘Your grandfather has been invited.’

‘
Oh,’
said Tatters. ‘Do you think he’ll go?’

‘
Who can
tell?’ the woman sighed. ‘Come on, boy, give me your arm back home.
My back is as stiff as a quill.’

On their way
back to their rooms, Tatters told Mussy about the goose girl. ‘She
is very strange. Her music showed me many peculiar things.’

Mussy gave him
a shrewd glance. ‘Perhaps it would be better if you stayed away
from her. Remember you mother got mixed up with an enchanting
traveller, and look what happened to her!’

‘
But I
have no friends,’ Tatters said, stung. ‘I like her. She doesn’t
frighten me. I can hardly get into the same kind of trouble as my
mother, can I?’

‘
Just
keep your wits about you, that’s all,’ Mussy advised. ‘Come now,
lad, there’s no room for a dour look like that on your bonny
face.’

He smiled at
her and she mussed his hair. Together, they walked into the
castle.

Much to
everyone’s surprise, Thaldocred, far from flinging the gilded
invitation from him in disgust, seem actually nudged from his
apathy by it. As if throwing wide the windows of his soul, long
unaired, he ordered that a fine new suit of clothes be made for
him. Some vestige of happiness appeared to have been kindled in his
heart. He occasionally smiled at people.

Encouraged by
what she thought might be a change of heart in her master, Mussy
summoned her courage and one evening as Thaldocred ate his dinner
alone, she crept up to his seat and made a brave request. Her heart
was pounding, she could barely speak. ‘Could you not take the boy
Brackeny with you to the Occasion, milord? He is such a fine young
lad and will do you credit.’

Thaldocred
dabbed at his mouth fastidiously with a napkin. ‘I have no living
relatives,’ he said stiffly. ‘And have no reason to take a servant
with me to the house of Duke Orvember.’

Mussy backed
away, aggrieved by his cold tone. She did not tell Tatters what she
had done.

Every day now,
Tatters sought out Charlaise’s company. Very soon they became fast
friends. He found her easy to talk to and much of what she told him
was full of mystery and magic. Whenever he danced to her music, it
was as if his mind filled up and overflowed with happiness and a
strange, earthy wisdom. He learned many things, such that cannot
easily be put into words. Now, she would dance with him often.
Together, they travelled to distant places in their minds, and the
music was their vehicle. ‘You must go to the Great Event at Duke
Orvember’s castle, Charlaise said.

‘
Don’t
be silly,’ Tatters replied, but Charlaise did not laugh.

Tatters had
never spoken to his grandfather. He had caught sight of him on
occasion, but always in the distance. Thaldocred did not come to
the part of the castle where the servants lived. Tatters never
thought of the lord as his relative, and did not even want to.

Some days
after her first request of Thaldocred, Mussy felt she must try
again. Surely, there must be some way of reconciling the lord with
his grandson? Life was far too short to create such misery. Mussy
was sure that in Tatters Thaldocred could find happy memories of
his wife and daughter. She sought him out in the stable-yard one
afternoon, and asked again. ‘Could you not take Brackeny with you
to Duke Orvember’s, my lord?’

‘
No.
Leave me alone.’ He mounted his horse.

Mussy realised
the futility of pressing the point and departed.

The whole
countryside was filled with the bustle and excitement of the coming
Event. People came from afar, all flocking to the town, Skylander,
where Duke Orvember’s castle reared proud and glittering above the
River Musk. Often, colourful strangers could be seen upon the road,
which passed the castle Emiraldra, riding in outlandish carriages
and accompanied by slaves in silk. Merchants, gypsies and
fortune-tellers were drawn to the area.

It all
unnerved Tatters a little, who was used to calm and tranquillity in
the air of the land.

Charlaise
mocked his feelings. ‘Change, it is the wine of life.’ She played
sharp, sweet notes on her flute.

Tatters shook
his head. ‘I, for one, will be glad when they all go home again,’
he said glumly.

Charlaise
laughed. ‘You must go to Skylander, Brackeny.’

‘
Why?’

‘
Because
of your nature, your true self.’

‘
And
what is that, Charlaise?’

The girl
pulled a wry face and blew a series of low notes on the flute.
‘Don’t you know?’

‘
Do
you?’

She laughed.
‘I know everything. I know justice when I see it, especially of the
most apt and poignant kind.’

Tatters often
misunderstood, or did not understand at all, a lot of what
Charlaise said. Sometimes he thought she was teasing him,
pretending to know so much about himself that he did not.

One day, as
Tatters danced to Charlaise’s music, beneath the hanging willows on
the banks of the river, he became convinced he was being watched.
Charlaise stopped playing, and the only sounds were the murmur of
the water and the occasional call of a bird. Tatters saw a tall,
shiny horse standing among the trees. ‘Someone is there!’ he cried,
pointing.

‘
Indeed
there is,’ Charlaise agreed, without looking. She looked at her
flute with a smile and then played a low, tuneless
melody.

The hidden
rider urged his horse forward and Charlaise said, ‘Have you lost
your way, traveller?’

Tatters saw a
well-dressed young man, who smelled of pampered living.

‘
I am on
my way to the castle at Skylander,’ said the traveller.

‘
Then
you must be going to the Great Event,’ Tatters said, walking
forward. He touched the velvet nose of the nervous horse, who
snorted into his palm.

‘
I
suppose I am,’ the young man said.

‘
Break
your journey,’ Charlaise suggested. ‘Take food and wine with
us.’

Tatters turned
to her quickly, for they had no food or wine, but there, to his
astonishment, on the grass was a white cloth, heaped with tempting
country fare.

‘
Why,
thank you,’ the young man said, and jumped down from his
horse.

Tatters pursed
his lips. Clearly, Charlaise had some interest in this person.

The traveller
asked their names.

‘
This is
Brackeny,’ Charlaise said and raised the flute to her lips once
more.

As she played,
Tatters said, ‘And she is Charlaise. She is a witch.’

‘
Is
she?’The young man laughed. ‘Call me... Willow.’ He was looking at
the trees. Tatters wondered if that was his real name. Willow took
off his hat. Beneath it, his hair was the colour of green-gold.
Tatters was impressed by Willow’s appearance. Previously, he had
considered Charlaise and himself to be the only beautiful people in
the entire world.

‘
Offer
our guest some refreshment, Brackeny,’ Charlaise said, breaking off
her tune for a moment.

Tatters did
so. As Willow chewed the food and swallowed the wine, he looked
from one to the other of them. ‘Are you related?’

‘
No,’
Tatters said.

‘
Yes, we
are,’ Charlaise interrupted. ‘I am his cousin once
removed.’

Tatters
smiled. What else would she come out with?

‘
And
where do you live?’ Willow asked.

‘
In
the...’ Tatters began, but again Charlaise interrupted
him.

‘
That is
not your affair, stranger. It is most discourteous of you to
ask.’

Willow smiled
ruefully and raised an eyebrow. ‘Forgive me, my lady!’

Charlaise
inclined her head. ‘You are forgiven, Master Willow.’

‘
Well!’
Willow leaned back upon the grass and crossed his feet. ‘I could
not have wished for a better outcome to my day! There I was,
hopelessly lost, and I come upon by accident two radiant beings of
the fields, who are clearly
both
witches!’ He sat up. ‘I must say I’ve never come across
people like you before in these parts. Are you
travellers?’

‘
We are
all travellers upon the road of life,’ Charlaise said. She had been
playing a series of monotonous notes, but now the tune picked up,
first lilting, then sharp and shrill, then drifting once more.
Tatters ate one of her illusory cakes and found it very satisfying.
Willow’s eyes were glazed. He was listening to the
music.

‘
It is
very hot,’ he said. ‘I feel... light-headed.’

‘
Take
our guest into the shade of the trees, Brackeny,’ Charlaise said,
and it seemed that even as she spoke the music did not falter at
all. ‘Take him beneath the hill.’

Tatters helped
the young man to his feet and led him beneath the branches of the
willows. Now they could not see Charlaise at all, but her music
still reached them, clear and strong. Willow put his head in
Tatters’ lap; his eyes were closed. Tatters could not help but take
a lock of the green-gold hair in his fingers.

‘
I am
very tired,’ Willow said. ‘I have travelled a long way upon the
road of life, perhaps, or upon the road of stone. It is all one to
me. I am tired, yet strangely I cannot sleep. Perhaps if you could
stroke my brow?’

Tatters
complied without pause, thinking, how strange that we can do this.
How strange to touch another’s flesh and want to do it. This person
is alive. He breathes as I breathe, he thinks as I think, yet we
are worlds apart. I cannot know his thoughts, and yet our skins are
touching. How strange.

The music was
deeper now; it felt as if dark clouds had drawn across the sun. It
was as if Tatters and the man were in a dark green room, closed
away from the world. A cool breeze shifted the leaves.

‘
Lie
down beside me, Brackeny,’ Willow murmured. ‘I am cold now and need
your warmth.’

Tatters curled
his arms around him.

‘
You are
a witch,’ Willow said, and began to kiss him.

Tatters was
intrigued. He did not find the experience unpleasant. In fact he
was surprised to find his body responding in several unaccountable
ways. As the music played beyond the leaves, Willow and the boy
moved together to the rhythm, the heart-beat, of the earth, and the
rich, dark smell of the earth rose, just as slowly, around
them.

Charlaise sat
on the grass, gazing into the distance, her eyes smiling. Not until
she heard Tatters cry out in delight and Willow’s answering moan,
did she stop playing. In the silence that followed, a dim peal of
thunder came from the south.

‘
I must
go now,’ Brackeny said, and sat up in the room of
leaves.

‘
I must
see you again,’ Willow told him.

Brackeny
reached for his clothes. ‘There is no point. You are obviously a
person of high rank, while I am... well, there is no point.’ He
went out into the darkening sunlight. Charlaise smiled at him.