The prior did not answer for some moments. Then he said, ‘Oh, yes.’
He said something else, but Gewis could not have heard right for it made no sense. After the prior left and the door of the little room was quietly closed, Gewis was left alone in the dark with his thoughts.
He had much to think about, but his mind returned again and again to the prior’s final words. Because what Gewis thought he had said was, ‘The blood calls out to him.’
SEVENTEEN
It took me a long time to get to sleep, and in the morning I felt groggy and listless. I recognized that I had suffered a shock last night; more than one, for I had seen a ghost and been kissed hard by a stranger. Stranger. . no, that was not the right word for him, for something inside me had known him, recognized him. . With an effort I pulled myself back from the indulgence of thinking about him and instead addressed myself to the day ahead.
Although I felt I ought to hurry out to pursue my investigations, I knew I was in no fit state. I made myself a calming brew, the main constituents of which were chamomile, clover and honey, and then I ate some bread and more of the honey for my breakfast. I barely tasted the food, but I did feel better after it had gone down.
Then I tidied the room, folding my borrowed garments and stowing them back in Sibert’s pack, and tried to see my way through the misty maze that appeared to surround me. I sat in thought for some time, and I got absolutely nowhere. I began to wonder what I was doing in Ely, for surely I was no good to anyone here and I’d be better off at home pursuing my studies and helping my aunt with her patients? But I knew that I would stay; for one thing, Sibert was still absent, and although Hrype was on his trail it was by no means certain that he would find Sibert if Sibert didn’t want to be found. Some instinct told me that, if ever Sibert was going to ask for anyone’s help in finding the answers about his own past that he so badly wanted, it would not be Hrype he approached but me.
I could not therefore leave Ely and desert my friend. There was something else: when I thought back to the previous evening and managed to see beyond the terrifying vision in the old church, I remembered the pale youth. He had recognized me and he had been about to hurry over and speak to me, of that I was sure. He needed my help, and I wasn’t going to let him down.
Although I told myself it was on account of these selfless reasons that I resolved to stay in Ely, even in my own head that was a lie — or, if not exactly that, then a fudging of the truth. I stayed because my dark-eyed stranger was on the island, and I wasn’t going to leave all the time there was a chance I would see him again.
I swung my cloak round me, pulled up the hood and went out into the morning. I was not at all sure where I was going but, as I paced up the narrow alley, I was filled with the sense that something was about to happen. The foreboding was at the same time both exciting and vaguely threatening.
Hrype had woken at dawn stiff and cold. After parting from Lassair the previous day he had looked for Sibert all along the Ely quays, asking if anyone had seen him or ferried him across the water. Nobody had or, if they had, they weren’t prepared to reveal the fact to a nosy stranger. As the light failed he had found a waterside tavern and ordered food and beer while he’d decided what to do. The obvious answer had been to return to the room, have a good night’s sleep and start again in the morning, but he could not face Lassair just then — or now. She surely must know from Sibert that he had welcomed the visit to Ely because it gave him an opportunity to discover more about his past, and Hrype perceived that she was very curious about what exactly was going on between him and Sibert. With good reason, he thought ruefully, but that did not mean he was ready to explain. He was not at all sure that the day when he was ready would ever come. .
So he’d paid for a bed in the tavern, but the space that his coins bought him was narrow, smelly, bug-ridden and he’d had to share it with other men. He had opted to sit on the bench in the corner, where he’d managed to doze on and off through the long night. It had been a relief when morning had come.
A wakeful night had, however, given him time to think and he had resolved to find Sibert, whatever it took and no matter how far he had to travel in the search. Hrype was not like other men, and he had an aid in his search that was not available to many; after he had taken a fairly unappetizing breakfast in the inn, he’d set off along the quay until he found a quiet spot where the track gave out and low-lying, waterlogged fields began.
He went in under the thin shelter of some winter-bare alders and crouched with his back against the trunk of the largest. It was not ideal; even his skill could not light a fire on the sodden ground. Also, although it was a desolate and deserted place, the town was quite near, and there was always the possibility that he would be disturbed. Nevertheless, he closed his eyes, drew deep on his reserves for the necessary concentration and, when he had put himself in the light trance state, summoned the guardian spirits and asked his animal guide for help. He opened his eyes and thought he glimpsed a large presence beside him, its thick brown fur brushing against him. His bear was there. He smiled faintly, then he shook the runes on to their cloth.
He looked for a long time. What he saw both reassured and deeply disturbed him, for the stones told him how and where he would find Sibert but also that there was a great disturbance hanging over the young man and grave danger hovered very close.
Hrype thanked the spirits, asked his guide to stay close and, his hands moving deftly but reverently, packed the runes away in their leather bag. Then he stood, straightened his cramped spine and set out back the way he had come.
He found a boatman to row him across to March. Almost in a daze, he headed off for the place where the causeway to Bearton branched away into the misty distance. He had almost reached it when he felt a hand on his sleeve. He turned to see Aetha.
‘I have been awaiting you, Magic Man,’ she said very quietly. There were people about, hurrying to and fro about the morning’s business. Aetha looked around quickly, and then she climbed the low wall and walked a few paces down the causeway to a place where a stand of willows stood with the bases of their trunks in water. She hopped nimbly up on to the top of a low rise where the ground was relatively dry and beckoned him to join her.
He stood staring down at her, waiting for her to speak. He read guilt and distress in her expression, and he believed he knew what she had done. The stones had spoken true.
Finally, she said, ‘I have betrayed you, Hrype. I told you when you came to me before that I believed some things are best left in the past, and when the youth came looking for me the first time I played on his fears and made sure he stayed away.’
‘But he came back,’ Hrype said dully.
‘He did.’ Her voice was barely audible.
‘So what changed?’ Hrype burst out. ‘Why did you allow him to reach you when before you had kept him away?’
‘He was desperate!’ she cried. He saw clearly that she was as angry as he was. ‘I had no wish to be involved in your anguish, Magic Man, for I know what you are and I fear you. It was through no invitation of mine that the boy came to seek me out with you hot on his heels!’
It was a fair comment, and Hrype waited until the blaze of his fury had cooled. Then he said, ‘You sensed his despair then, and this time you allowed him across.’
She smiled grimly. ‘It was not a question of allowing him, for his despair fed his courage and he mastered his fear. Before I could prevent it, he was on the island knocking at my door.’
Very slowly Hrype nodded. ‘And you told him.’ He knew it; there was no doubt in his mind, for the stones had hinted at it in their own enigmatic way and now he read it in the old woman who stood before him.