‘Magda is nothing like Asa,’ he said after a brief silence.
‘Asa had not told you the reason they had not spoken in such a long while? Had you expected a warmer welcome?’
He laughed. ‘More questions.’
She might say much about their differences, but she chose to say nothing, holding her observations close in an uneasy embrace, still seeking to understand. It pained her to recognize much of herself in Asa, the Alisoun that might have been had she not vowed to try Magda’s way first before setting out in the direction that called to her, the way of charms and spells, far more alluring than committing to memory the lore of healing plants and observing, listening, assisting her teacher. Love and fertility charms, spells against the heir to an inheritance, spells against a competitor, charms to win an invitation to a guild, spells of protection against the pestilence – though such things seldom worked, the desperate still sought them, and paid well. But now, seeing Asa’s bitterness, her inability to prevent her own physical suffering, Alisoun felt ungrateful and not a little foolish.
‘Are you excited to go off to the country?’ Einar asked.
‘I grew up on the river, on a farm,’ said Alisoun. ‘It is the city that still excites me. But the hunting will be better. You want to have a care in Galtres. It is a royal forest. Magda has permission to hunt coney and such small game. A grateful sheriff arranged it by royal consent years ago. If you are caught hunting, you will be fined. Or worse.’
‘Magda will vouch for me.’
‘You asked? If not, I would advise you to do so.’
‘But we’re kin.’
Alisoun said no more. Let him discover the difference between blind loyalty to family and a respect for the law of the community.
Owen stood by the window as he listened to Carn describing the foul rumors regarding Magda. ‘What is the substance of the tales?’ he asked.
‘You will not be surprised to hear the accusers seem unaware of anything but their own fear that God will smite those who seek the help of a pagan healer. He’s not done that before. Why now?’ Carn took a long drink. ‘Edwin Cooper cursed Dame Magda’s daughter for casting a spell that made his wife talk in her sleep. Have you ever heard such a thing? His son Ned says both his parents chatter like jays all the night. Always have. He spoke also of drawings that cursed his wife’s dreams. And there was something about a charm tucked in his wife’s bed, a pagan thing.’
That interested Owen, knowing that although Magda held no truck with such things, Asa favored them. ‘So it is the daughter who might cause God to smite him.’
‘Ah, but Cooper says she does her mother’s bidding. They do say the archbishop has spoken out against Dame Magda.’
‘Archbishop Neville is here?’
‘No. They say he’s written a letter.’
‘Who is they?’
‘Gavin Wolcott.’
‘Graa’s new friend?’ Owen tucked that away. ‘To whom did he write the letter?’
‘To the heads of the religious houses in York.’
Owen would ask his good friend Archdeacon Jehannes about that. Turning toward the window he noticed a familiar figure approaching the gate.
‘I see Alisoun,’ he said. ‘She is not alone.’ Carn joined him at the embrasure. ‘Do you recognize the man?’
‘No. Cannot say that I do.’
Owen clapped Carn on the back and thanked him for the company. ‘If you would open the gate I might engage him before he leaves her.’
‘He cannot enter.’
‘I know. I mean only to speak with him.’
Outside the gate Owen avoided the area lit by Carn’s torch and the one overhead, choosing to watch from the shadows. Alisoun walked more quickly as she grew near, as if to shake off her escort. The man, no taller than Alisoun, walked with the cockiness of youth, a guess confirmed as he moved into the light. Dark hair, light skin, nothing familiar about him. Owen stepped out into the road. The young man drew a dagger and began to stride forward as if to defend his companion.
‘Captain,’ Alisoun called out. ‘How kind of you to meet me.’
The youth hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder, then halted, sheathing the dagger.
‘Forgive me, Captain. I thought someone meant to attack Mistress Alisoun.’
‘Folk in York know better than to threaten me,’ Alisoun said.
Owen laughed. ‘Indeed. You must be new to the city.’
‘Einar.’ He bobbed his head. ‘I have heard much about you, Captain.’ He adjusted the bow slung over his shoulder.
‘You’ve been hunting?’ Magda had permission to hunt small animals in Galtres, and Alisoun as a member of her household, but the privilege extended to few others.
Einar had the good sense to look discomfited.
‘Are you a good shot?’
‘Fair enough. Though out of practice.’
‘Come to St George’s Field on Sunday,’ said Owen. ‘We practice at the butts. For King Edward.’
‘I would be welcome?’
‘If I invite you, yes.’
Einar cocked his head, considering. ‘I might.’
Owen nodded to him and turned to follow Alisoun through the gate.
Carn stood behind him. ‘Poor young fool. He’s not won your heart, eh, Mistress Alisoun?’ he laughed.
‘I hardly think that was his intent,’ she said. ‘How goes your wife, Carn?’
‘Bless you, young woman. Round as she is tall and humming about the house. Young Meg is excited to assist Dame Magda when the time comes. Glad we are we live without the gates.’ He waved them on, wishing her a safe journey.
As Owen and Alisoun walked along Petergate she asked after Old Bede and his family. Already weary of recounting the evening, Owen was glad she did not ask for a full account. Indeed, she said little, seeming to have much on her mind, which he would expect the night before a journey. He welcomed the quiet, thinking about the small items he meant to pursue in interviews on the morrow. As they reached Christchurch, Alisoun told him of Magda’s parting comments about Asa, and Einar’s relationship to her.
‘He has her eyes, did you notice?’ she asked.
‘No, but he was mostly in shadow.’ He was curious about the youth.
‘You will watch over her, Captain?’
‘He worries you?’
‘Both of them do.’ She described Asa’s drawings and how they affected her. ‘The stuff of nightmares. Women becoming trees.’
‘I recall nothing so disturbing in the house on the moors. But I do remember her animosity toward her mother. Small wonder Asa had forged her own path.’
‘She is as unlike Magda as a daughter could be. She may have stolen something from me, a mandrake root shaped like a person. It was hidden, so she clearly searched the house.’
Remembering Carn’s story of the charm, Owen wondered. ‘Did you tell Magda?’
‘I did. She was not surprised.’
Nor was Owen. Asa had impressed him as a woman who did as she pleased with no regard for others. To search her mother’s house for items she might use seemed quite in character. He promised he would make time to visit Magda. His disappointment in the prince’s purpose in summoning him was on his mind, and until he talked to her it would hang over him, clouding his thoughts. ‘I will think how to keep an eye on Einar and Asa,’ Owen said. He sensed Alisoun’s relief. ‘The lads who take turns watching her coracle, do you think? I might ask them to do me a favor.’
‘I should have thought of that. But coming from you, reporting to you, their hero – they will be proud to have your trust.’
He smiled, thinking how much the lads admired Alisoun, how in awe of her they were. She shoots the bow like a man. No fear! No one has ever apprenticed to the Riverwoman. ‘Are you taking your bow?’