I grieved for Romain. I knew there had never been any chance of my sweet fantasies ever turning into reality, but all the same he was very often in my mind and I recognized that I truly had loved him, a little.
I thought about what Edild had told me of my web of destiny, in particular what she had said concerning my relationship with my lovers (the thought still made me blush, even when I was quite alone). She’d been right about my being fire and air, and my triumph in the fire pit supported her. Was she also right when she said my friends and my lovers would never feel close to me?
Time would tell.
In the absence of lovers I worked hard on my friendships and especially hard on my closeness to my family. Goda’s sunny mood on the day I first went to see her after she had borne her child did not last, I’m sorry to say, although we all agreed that her temperament had improved very slightly with motherhood and I tried to convince myself that the improvement would continue. For now, she tended little Gelges with haphazard but effective care — her vast breasts could have fed five babies and Gelges thrived — and on rare occasions even managed a pleasant word for Cerdic.
My little niece and I saw as much of each other as my busy life allowed. Until she was weaned she had to stay close to her mother, but already I looked forward to the day when I might be allowed to take her off with me while I went about my daily round. If Goda had another child, I thought, then she might well ask — no, demand — that I help her by taking Gelges off her hands. It was something to look forward to.
I discovered an unexpected side-effect from my fire-walking: people had started to whisper about me and it seemed that quite a few believed I was a sorceress. I had imagined, if I’d thought about it at all, that they would accept the official verdict, which was that my unburned feet meant that God had protected me in my innocence. I had reckoned without village superstition; we were, after all, very close to our pagan origins and many secretly prayed to the Old Gods. I rather liked this new image of myself.
I saw Sibert often. What we had gone through together had forged a link between us and although he could not compete with the shadowy memory of Romain as far as my romantic interest went, nevertheless he was my friend. I had saved his life and he had saved mine. It’s not something you share with many people.
I never heard anyone mention the Drakelow crown.
I thought afterwards that, just before Sibert and I stole it, it had performed the task for which its maker had designed it, for Duke Robert of Normandy had not invaded but stayed safely on the other side of the narrow seas. It had not had the same success twenty-two years earlier, when the Conqueror had come, but perhaps he had been a truly unstoppable force, beyond even the power of a magic crown.
Such mysteries were not for me; I was far too green an apprentice in my craft to understand them. All the same, it was a comforting thought, as I went tiredly to my bed at the end of a long, hard day, to think of the Drakelow crown deep beneath the sea sanctuary. Others would come roaring up in the dawn light with the aim of taking our land, of that there was no doubt. It was good to think that there was something there to stand in their path.
The fact that I had played a part in ensuring that it was there in its special place, where it was meant to be, felt even better.