I knew that voice. I spun round and there was Granny, leaning on the gatepost with a smile like the midday sun on her round face. I was so pleased to see her, so relieved that she had come back to us, that I did not stop to think but rushed at her and wrapped my arms around her. Too forcefully — she gasped and instantly I loosened my hold.
‘That’s better!’ she said with a grin. ‘You may be only thirteen, child, but you’re growing fast, you’re well-made and strong as a boy.’
I basked in her praise. I like it when people say I’m like a boy. I wish I had been born a boy and I dread the day when my courses start and I have to start prinking and fussing and behaving like a woman, as my mother says. I suppose I’ll grow great big breasts like Goda’s too, although Elfritha is still quite flat-chested and she’s more than a year older than me.
I was still hugging my granny. ‘I thought you might not come back,’ I whispered.
She patted my cheek. ‘Well, I do like it over at Alvela’s,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Morcar’s making good money now and they have meat at least once a week. They provided me with a feather pillow, too.’
‘Oh.’
She must have picked up my dejection and she stopped teasing me. ‘But this is my home, child,’ she added softly. ‘How many times must I tell you? I was born here in Aelf Fen and so were all my ancestors, right back into the ancient times. This is where I belong and I won’t leave till I make my final journey.’
I did not want to think about that. ‘We’re having a feast tonight,’ I said, taking her hand and leading her inside the house. ‘Mother got together a bit of a bite for Cerdic’s kin after the wedding but she’s saving the best for later.’ I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. ‘We were hoping that you might accept the best place by the fire and tell us a story.’
She sighed. ‘Oh, Lassair, child, I really don’t think I’m up to it,’ she said mournfully. ‘I’m very tired — it’s a long way from Breckland and the carter dropped me off at the fen edge, so I had to walk the last few miles — and I think I might turn in early.’
‘But-’ I began. But she was my grandmother, my revered elder, and out of the respect that was her due I knew I was not allowed to protest at anything she decided. ‘Very well,’ I said meekly.
There was a moment’s silence. Then Granny chuckled. ‘Silly girl. Don’t you know your old Granny at all? What, miss a feast, with my daughter-in-law’s excellent grub and my son’s mead? Oh, no. Dear Lassair, child, I’ll be telling stories all night.’
Although I was sorry that Romain did not return and almost but not quite as sorry that Sibert had evidently slumped off home, I had to admit that the evening was wonderful and it was lovely to be just the family. We had all held such high hopes of what life in our little house would be like after Goda had gone and if that first night were to prove typical, then not one of us was going to be disappointed.
Granny sat by the fire in the traditional storyteller’s place. Even had she not been so uniquely gifted, the seat was hers because she was the eldest, although that had never stopped Goda from trying to usurp her. Not that Granny had let her. My father sat opposite, my mother beside him on the bench. He reached out and took her hand and she gave him a loving glance. He nodded and raised his bushy eyebrows, as if to say, this is good, isn’t it, and she put up her free hand and gently touched his cheek. It looked as if my siblings and I were going to have to do our we’ve-all-suddenly-gone-deaf act later on.
Haward, Elfritha, Squeak and I sat on the floor in a semicircle round the hearth and Leir lay asleep in his cradle. Then Granny began.
She did not go on all night but, all the same, nobody could have complained. She recounted some of the favourite tales — Lassair the Sorceress, child of the Fire and the Air, had her moment, as she so often does when I am there to listen — and so did Sigbehrt the Mighty Oak. Granny’s voice always breaks when she speaks of him and his great valour, how he risked and lost his own life defending his king and trying to save his kindred, but then he was her best-loved brother so she is entitled to a tear or two.
She finished with a tale that I had not heard before and at the time I did not know what had prompted her. ‘Now it was our ancestor Aelfbryga who first led her people here to Aelf Fen,’ she began in a sing-song, chanting tone that for some reason sent a delicious shiver through me. ‘Her daughter Aelfburga took as her husband Aedelac the Spearsman, and they had many children. Their two eldest sons were Berie and Beofor, who were very close in age and fierce rivals from their cradle days. As they grew through boyhood to manhood, their violent quarrels reached such a pitch that the Elders drew together in council and, with the blessing of the boys’ parents, made the difficult decision to send one of the young men away. A series of five tests of strength was devised and the victor was to be allowed to choose whether to stay at Aelf Fen or, with a bag of gold in his hand, be sent to make his fortune elsewhere. The boys were similar in strength and stature but Berie, the elder son, was cunning and clever and not above subterfuge. He it was who bested his brother by three challenges to two and he elected to remain at Aelf Fen, and out of his loins sprang a great line of wise women and cunning men, as well as herbalists, healers, and rune casters. The brothers and sisters of these rarefied beings, content with a more earthly lot, were farmers, fishermen, fowlers and shepherds, who husbanded the land in much the same way as we their descendants still do today.’
‘What happened to Beofor?’ Haward demanded, eyes wide in the firelight and his stammer quite forgotten as he sat entranced.
Granny smiled down at him. ‘He wandered for many moons and had many adventures, and finally he settled on the coast, in a very special place that called out to him in a magical voice that sounded like the deep murmuring roar of a dragon. There he took two wives and fathered many children and’ — the transition was so smooth and so unexpected that I for one did not suspect a thing — ‘that is quite enough for one night and now I am going to bed.’
We all went about our little rituals for the end of the day. Just before I lay down on my cot, I slipped outside to sniff the night air and look at the stars. I could not resist a quick glance up the track — it was just possible that Romain, perhaps unable to find a bed for the night, might return and beg our hospitality. But the path was empty, the settlement silent and still.
I sensed someone beside me.
‘He won’t come back here,’ Granny said softly.
I was about to pretend I didn’t know who she was talking about but there really was no point. ‘Oh.’ Then: ‘How did you know?’
She took my hand and gave it a little shake. ‘I saw you earlier. I was just coming back to the village and I stood watching you from over there.’ She nodded towards where the path went through a stand of willows.
‘Oh,’ I said again.
She hesitated, then said, ‘Don’t waste your hopes on him, Lassair child.’
‘But he’s so handsome!’ The foolish words had burst out of me before I could check them.
Granny sighed. ‘Handsome he may be, but he is not a man to whom my beloved granddaughter should go giving her heart.’