Mist Over the Water

SIX

‘They pushed me into a filthy ditch,’ my cousin said, in a voice that even the least experienced healer would have judged was quite rational, ‘and they waited up on the bank until they thought I was drowned.’ A shudder went through him. ‘I could see them, looming up above me: huge, dark shapes like ghosts in their shrouds.’

I smoothed his brow with my hand, and he turned to look at me. ‘I’m sorry,’ he muttered.

What had he to be sorry about? ‘It’s all right,’ I said gently.

‘It was unspeakable down there,’ he said, eyes unfocused as he confronted the horrors in his memory. ‘There was a corpse, nothing but bones and slimy, rotten flesh.’ He shuddered again, his whole body shaking. ‘But I had to stay there, I had to!’ he cried, as if Sibert and I had questioned his judgement, ‘I had to hold my breath and make them think I was dead. I let out a few bubbles, then I made myself stop.’ He put a hand over his eyes, and I guessed he was trying not to weep.

‘They were up there watching you?’ Sibert asked.

Morcar removed his hand. His eyes were indeed wet with tears. ‘Yes. Still, quite still, like marble images. Dear God in heaven, I thought I would die down in that foul water! I could feel. . things floating around me, brushing against me, and I started to think there were maggots and leeches and foul things crawling on my skin, sucking my blood, and that. . that body, still in its rusty armour, bumping against my face.’ The horror overcame him and he retched, bringing up a mouthful of yellowish bile. Quickly, I reached for a cloth and wiped it away. He gave me a look of thanks.

‘When I could stand it no longer I broke surface and took in a mouthful of air,’ he said, calmer now. ‘I didn’t know if they were still there or if they’d decided I was drowned and gone away. Either way, I didn’t care. Death was preferable to another instant in that ditch.’ He drew a steadying breath.

‘They’d gone?’ Sibert asked.

‘Yes,’ Morcar said with the ghost of a smile, ‘or else I’d not be here now. I managed to get myself up out of the water and half way on to the bank, although how I did it I’ll never know. Then I lay there calling out, and in the end a monk came by and went for help.’

‘They brought you back here?’ I said softly. I was still very perplexed as to why the monks had not instantly taken him in to care for him.

Morcar fixed his eyes on mine. ‘I told them to!’ he said in a hoarse whisper. Then, realizing that I did not understand, ‘I thought the robed figures who tried to kill me were monks, you see. Now I’m not so sure, but then, in my panic, I did not dare let my rescuers take me within the abbey.’

‘I see.’ Yes. It was all too clear. Morcar had faced a frightful choice between surrendering to the first-rate care of the monks, two of whom might have just tried to kill him, or being taken to his meagre, dirty lodgings where he would probably die.

He was looking at me anxiously. Hastily, I wiped the deep frown off my face, but it was too late. ‘I’m so sorry, Lassair,’ he said. ‘I found someone to take a message to my mother to send help, and it never occurred to me that the task would fall to you. I have brought you here to danger and to the deeply unpleasant task of nursing me. Can you ever forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive!’ I said, putting all the sincerity I could muster into my voice. ‘Edild would have come herself but she is presently occupied with several very sick people back in Aelf Fen. I volunteered to come,’ I added, stretching the truth a little, ‘because this sort of experience is quite invaluable to an apprentice healer like me.’

‘That’s what she told me too,’ Sibert put in, obviously keen to add verisimilitude to my tale.

Morcar managed a crooked grin. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ Sibert and I chorused together.

Morcar stretched experimentally, then very, very carefully moved his right foot. Surprise flooded his face. ‘Oh!’ he exclaimed.

I leapt up. ‘Does it hurt?’ I was already running through what stronger pain-relieving drug I could administer that would not risk sending him into a permanent sleep. He had already had several drops of poppy. .

But, ‘No, it doesn’t hurt,’ Morcar was saying, still looking amazed. ‘It throbs a bit, but otherwise it’s just numb.’

I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘You should drink,’ I said, pouring some watered-down willow infusion into a cup. ‘As much as you can, for it will help reduce the fever.’

Morcar looked embarrassed. ‘Speaking of drinking,’ he began.

It was Sibert who made the leap of understanding. I was ushered outside while he helped my cousin fill the new pisspot.

Morcar was still very sick. He managed to drink most of the infusion, but then, with a petulant, almost spiteful gesture that I blamed entirely on his feverish state, he pushed my hand away, spilling the dregs of the drink on the skirts of my gown.

I made him as comfortable as he could and sat beside him as he twisted and turned, muttering under his breath. I feared he was growing delirious again and, indeed, soon his moans grew in volume although he was deeply asleep, if not unconscious. I put my hand on his forehead. He was very hot.

Sibert crawled over to me, awakened by Morcar’s mutterings and cries. ‘Is he all right?’

It was a singularly dull question, but I realized Sibert was still half asleep and therefore had only a part of his wits about him. ‘No,’ I replied shortly. ‘His fever’s creeping up again.’

Sibert studied Morcar for a few moments. ‘Can’t you do anything?’

‘No,’ I repeated, cross that he was making me confront my inadequacies. Then, relenting, I said, ‘Sibert, do you think you could go and fetch me some freshly drawn water?’ We had our own supply — Sibert made sure to keep the bucket inside the door filled — but it had grown stale and warm from the fire. Sibert nodded, drew on his boots and slipped outside into the darkness.

I reached into my bag and found my little bottle of lavender oil. Pouring a few drops into the palm of my hand, I dipped in my fingers and, kneeling beside Morcar, very gently began to massage his head, from his temples across to his brow and then right up into his hairline and over his skull, extending the process I had begun earlier. Fevers were usually accompanied by severe headaches, and it could be that poor Morcar, deeply asleep though he might be, was suffering pain.

Presently, Sibert returned. The water in the bucket was icy-cold and smelled sweet. Quickly, I dipped in a cloth and, wringing it out, folded it across my cousin’s forehead. As wet cloth encountered hot skin, I imagined I heard the hiss of steam.

I willed Sibert to go back to bed because I was not at all confident about what I was going to do next, and I didn’t think I could even attempt it with an audience. Sleep, Sibert, I thought, staring hard at him. You are so sleepy. Go to sleeeeep. .

Sibert yawned, his jaws stretching impossibly wide. ‘Do you mind if I go back to bed?’ he whispered.

I hid a smile. ‘Of course not.’

‘If there’s anything you need, wake me.’

‘I will.’

He hovered beside me for a few moments — just go! I yelled inside my head — then he crept away. I heard rustling as he settled down, and then quite soon his breathing lengthened and he gave a few little snores.

I made myself forget him. Totally. Moving smoothly and quietly, I sat up cross-legged and deliberately forced my mind inwards. I was heading away from the familiar everyday world and venturing out among the spirits, as Edild and, lately, Hrype had taught me. I had done all I could for my cousin; now I needed help.

My aunt and Hrype, the healer and the sorcerer, have each in their own way taught me of the world beyond vision, the world where the true power lies and which is accessible to those with the skill and the strength to journey there. It took me months of summoning my courage before I even dared make my first attempt, for I knew I was not worthy and for someone like me to be audacious enough to try would surely make the spirits so furious that I would swiftly be annihilated.

I do not care to recall those first few occasions. The first time I threw up all over my aunt. The second time I scared myself so much that I wet myself. The third, fourth and fifth times nothing happened. The sixth time I had the tiniest glimmer of what lay beyond the smoky veil. Now I had ventured there twice without serious damage to myself (other than a splitting headache all the next day), and I was at last beginning to understand the vast power that lay concealed out there.

It was enormously helpful that I had found my spirit guardian — or rather, as Hrype would have it, my guardian had found me. Hrype had told me how to seek out my guardian, and for an alarming three days I’d been alone in the forest up around the Breckland, fasting, with only sips of water to drink, wandering lost along unfamiliar tracks and so bemused by fear, hunger and fatigue that I had not known if I’d remained in this world or had accidentally strayed into some other. When at last I’d collapsed I’d believed it was to sleep and dream — that’s what it felt like at the time — but Hrype told me afterwards that this was a trance, dropped on me like a soft blanket by the spirits I had come to seek, under the influence of which I was permitted to see through new eyes.

See I did. Watch for the first creature that comes to you, Hrype had commanded. He is your spirit guardian, and his essence is already within you. He will recognize you and seek you out.

The creature that came up to me, watching me intently from bright golden eyes and gently pushing his snout into my hand, was a fox. He was a young adult, lithe and slim, his rich, reddish-brown fur thick and glossy. He had spots of white on his chin and chest and his slim feet were as black as the tip of his brush.

A fox! I knew the tales they told of foxes. I had heard tell of the supernatural power that informed them when death was near; their tricky ways; their cunning and their ability to move silently and secretively. Already, I was forming a bond with my guardian, although I did not know it, for alongside these flashing images came memories of Edild as she revealed to me my web of destiny. You are air and fire, she told me — air like the feather-light footstep of the fox, fire like his fiery red coat — restless, uncompromising and direct, yet you possess the ability to conceal your true self with a plausible false skin, she had concluded, which I thought described my ability to lie fluently and credibly in a very flattering light.

I stared at the fox and he stared back at me, so intently that I felt his intelligence boring into me, questing, searching. I tensed so tight that it hurt. Then suddenly he released me, and it was as if he smiled; I swear he gave a little nod of recognition. Then there was a moment’s intense pain as something entered my mind — or perhaps something went out from it — and I understood that the fox and I were somehow united. I can’t remember any more; I slept then, or perhaps passed out, and when I woke I felt calm and strong. I got to my feet — it was dusk — and walked the many miles back to Aelf Fen without stopping to eat, drink or rest; without fear, too, for I knew my fox padded silently and invisibly beside me. It took me all night, and when I was back in Edild’s house I slept solidly for two days.

Now, as I sat on the floor beside my sick cousin, I sent my inner self striding off in search of Fox. Soon I felt him take up his place pacing at my side. He stretched his head up, and I felt his cool nose briefly touch my hand as he greeted me. He knew what we must do, for he was a part of me and had experienced all that I had experienced that day. Together we walked on, and my feet fell as softly as his. Presently, we came to the place we sought, and in my mind I cried out the words that would invite the spirits to come to us. Fox left my side, trotting round in a perfect circle, pausing briefly at east, south, west and north.

After some time, I knew the spirits were there. I opened my heart and begged them to help me.

When I returned to myself I could make out a very faint glimmer of light filtering through the gaps around the ill-fitting door. Very carefully I stretched, easing the cramp out of my legs; my feet had gone numb, and I gritted my teeth against the pain as the feeling returned. I must have been sitting there in my trance for many hours; the night was almost over.

For a moment I had forgotten why I’d set out on my journey to the spirits, but then it flashed back into my mind like a spring tide. Barely able to contain myself, I leaned over Morcar.

He was still alive. He was breathing steadily, and when I touched his forehead he was hot but not burning. He stirred briefly, smacked his lips, grunted and then, turning on his side, relaxed again. He was asleep. He was not unconscious or in the dread coma that leads down to death; he was just asleep.

Very quietly I got up and crept outside. I had a brand from the fire in my hand, and I hurried down the track to the water that rose and lapped at the far end. There I bent down and with my free hand scooped up a clump of mud. I walked right to the edge of the dark water, and then, closing my eyes, I turned my attention to the kindly spirits who had answered my appeal and thanked them from the bottom of my heart. Then I took a deep breath and let it out, softly and smoothly, giving my thanks to the spirit of air. I leaned down and plunged the glowing brand into the river for the spirits of fire and water. Finally, I dropped the ball of mud on to the shore for the spirit of earth. I stood for some time and gradually my racing, excited heartbeat slowed. When I felt ready, I turned my back on the darkly glistening water and returned to Morcar’s lodging.

Morcar woke up shortly before mid morning. I was alone with him, Sibert having set off to find food. I was not sure Morcar could be persuaded to eat, but I was ravenous and I’m sure Sibert was too. I was also drooping with tiredness, longing to put my head down and sleep. I planned to do just that later, once Sibert was back.

I watched as my cousin’s eyes slowly roamed round the sordid little room. Admittedly, the thorough clean-out had improved matters, but it was still a hovel, however you looked at it. Morcar finished his inspection and turned to me. ‘Thank you, Lassair,’ he said gravely.

‘Oh, it was nothing a bit of hard work couldn’t manage,’ I said lightly.

Morcar did not smile. ‘I was not thanking you for improving the room.’

I looked down, embarrassed by his expression. ‘I’m a healer,’ I muttered. ‘If I can’t do my best to save my own cousin, there isn’t much hope for anyone else.’

He did not reply. I remembered him as a silent sort of a man — and, indeed, I had put his sudden garrulousness the previous evening down to the ramblings of fever. I was just thinking that, as he hadn’t yet mentioned people trying to murder him, perhaps that had been a delusion of sickness, when he cleared his throat hesitantly and spoke again.

‘Lassair, we cannot stay here,’ he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. ‘It’s not safe.’

‘We can’t possibly move you yet,’ I whispered back. ‘You are far too weak to walk even as far as the end of the track and-’

‘Then you must get me a ride with a carter or find a mule,’ he hissed fiercely. As if I could conjure an obliging carter or a mule up out of thin air! ‘We have to get off the island, Lassair, for they tried to kill me once and will undoubtedly try again.’

I decided to go along with him. ‘They won’t if they don’t know where you are,’ I said very softly. He looked very slightly reassured, or that might have been my wishful thinking. Encouraged anyway, I added, ‘Even the monk at the abbey gate hadn’t heard of you and had no idea where you were.’

My words had the opposite effect from the one I’d hoped for; Morcar’s pale face went ashen and sweat broke out on his forehead. ‘You asked for me at the abbey?’ he said, the words a sort of strangled croak as he tried to shout and keep his voice down at the same time. ‘Oh, Lassair, you fool, you’ve killed us all!’

I was offended at being called a fool and, besides, he was being overdramatic. Or I hoped he was. ‘Shh! Be quiet! It’s all right, I just told you, the monk said quite plainly he knew of no one called Morcar of the Breckland who was a flint knapper!’

Morcar rolled his eyes. ‘Did you relate the long line of my ancestors while you were about it?’ he demanded furiously. ‘Dear God above, Lassair, you should have had more sense!’

I almost retorted that I hadn’t been aware there was any need for secrecy and how else was I to have sought him out other than by asking for him? I managed to bite back the words; he was still very sick and dependent on me. At no point in a healer’s long training is he or she taught that it’s permissible to yell at a patient. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said when I had myself under control. ‘I went to the abbey because I had no idea where you were, and I thought it possible the monks might be caring for you.’

‘You know why I couldn’t risk that. I told you,’ he said. He didn’t sound quite so angry.

‘Yes, I know now,’ I said patiently. ‘I didn’t then.’

My cousin didn’t comment, except to go, ‘Hrumph!’

I hurried on. ‘I’m sure there’s no need to worry, Morcar. As I just said, the monk I spoke to had never heard of you.’

‘He might have mentioned your enquiry to his brethren,’ Morcar said, face twisting in anguish, ‘including the two that want to kill me!’ He tried to force himself into a sitting position. Quickly, I pushed him back. I had to use more force than I’d expected. He glared up at me out of terrified eyes. ‘Lassair, we have to go!’ he wailed. ‘It’s not only that they want to kill me, there’s something-’ Suddenly, his jaws clamped shut, as if someone had hit him hard on the point of his chin. The fear in his eyes intensified, and he gave a low moan, such an awful sound that my heart quaked.

‘What?’ I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

But he shook his head. ‘No. No,’ he muttered. Then, eyes on mine again, he repeated urgently, ‘We have to go!’

‘We can’t,’ I said. Smiling, trying to look reassuring, I added, ‘You don’t even know that these two men were monks, Morcar. And I’m quite sure they weren’t trying to kill you — they probably just brushed against you and you slipped.’

He closed his eyes briefly, muttering under his breath. Then, opening them again, he fixed me with a furious stare and said coldly, ‘You weren’t there. They tried to kill me, girl. One of them took the gleeve I was using to hold myself up and the other barrelled into me like a charging bull. They thought they’d drowned me. When they find out I’m still alive, they’ll come after me and have another try, and they’ll kill you, too, if you stand in their way.’

He spoke with such certainty that I began to feel afraid. I allowed myself to imagine them, two dark, hooded shapes looming huge in the dim light of dusk, creeping along the alley, slowly opening the door to fall on Morcar, Sibert and me. .

It was a mistake to have let the images into my mind.

Mentally, I gave myself a severe scolding. ‘You cannot be moved and that is an end of it, Morcar,’ I said firmly. He opened his mouth to protest, but I held up my hand. ‘Tomorrow, if your condition continues to improve, I will send Sibert to find a way of transporting you off the island and away from here. I promise,’ I added, risking my soul because just then I had no idea how I was going to manage it. And where, even if we got him away from Ely, would I take him? Home to his mother? To Aelf Fen and Edild’s care? I thought it best not even to think that far ahead.

Morcar was watching me closely. ‘I have your word?’

‘Yes.’ I’d just promised, hadn’t I? ‘When Sibert comes back you’ll have to try to eat something, Morcar, because if we’re going to move you you’ll need to build up some strength. I will-’

We both heard the footsteps pounding along the alleyway. They were approaching, fast.

Morcar’s eyes widened in terror. I grabbed the blanket off the bed where Sibert had slept and threw it over him, covering him from head to injured, bandaged foot, then I lay down in front of him, so close that I could feel the thumping of his heartbeat pushing against my back. I drew his discarded hooded cloak over me like a cover and, propping myself up on one elbow, prayed to every spirit that might be listening that when they came bursting through the door they would see nothing more than an angry young woman woken violently from her slumber and none too pleased about it. You’re angry, I told myself. You aren’t afraid because you don’t know there is anything to fear. You’re angry. Very, very angry. .

The hurrying footsteps stopped right outside. They must know Morcar was in here. I raised my chin, going over the words I would shout out as soon as they appeared.

The door opened.

‘What do you think you’re doing,’ I cried, ‘bursting in here without my permission? Waking me up with your noise, making me jump out of my-’

One person stood there, tall, slim, looking very upset.

It was Sibert.

I felt myself slump with relief. I leaned down to Morcar, quickly uncovering his head and saying, ‘It’s all right, it’s just Sibert.’

I rolled away from my cousin and stood up, preparing to yell at Sibert for scaring us so badly. But his face was white — almost as pale as Morcar’s. As we stood there face to face, the provisions he had brought back fell out of his hands. A small apple rolled across the floor. ‘What is it?’ I whispered urgently. ‘What’s happened?’

Sibert looked at Morcar and back to me. ‘Someone’s been murdered,’ he said. He was trembling. ‘They’ve found a body, down at the end of a narrow stream where some of the men have been catching eels.’ He shuddered, putting up a hand to wipe his mouth. I smelled vomit.

‘Did you go and look?’ I demanded.

‘Yes.’ He moaned, briefly closing his eyes. ‘It was ghastly. He’d been pinned face forward to the abbey wall with an eel gleeve. It can’t have pierced his heart, for they’re saying it took him most of the night to die. There’s so much blood!’ he exclaimed, and now both of his hands were over his mouth.

I tried not to imagine the victim’s torment. To bleed to death, feeling the blood seep out of you and unable to do anything to save yourself. . Stop it, I ordered myself. This is not helping. ‘Sit down,’ I said to Sibert, ‘and if you feel faint, or sick, put your head between your knees.’ He obeyed. I fetched him a cup of water, standing over him while he sipped it. ‘Better?’

He looked up and I saw that his colour was returning. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

I began collecting up the dropped provisions. ‘When you feel like eating, I’ll prepare something,’ I said, trying to make my voice calm and untroubled. ‘Mmm, this bread smells good. I’m very hungry and-’

Sibert was staring at something on the floor, just in front of where Morcar lay. The shock from Sibert’s announcement was still written all over Morcar’s face. I would have to do something to help him very soon, I thought, for this talk of murder would surely work on his terrified fancies about hooded assassins.

I looked to see what had caught and held Sibert’s attention. He was staring at Morcar’s cloak, which I had thrown off as I stood up.

‘What’s the matter?’ All my efforts to appear unflustered had flown away and I sounded exactly like what I was: a very frightened girl.

‘Whose is that?’ Sibert pointed a shaking finger at the cloak.

‘It’s mine.’ Morcar’s whisper was all but inaudible.

Sibert knelt down right in front of him. ‘Where did you get it? When did you get it?’ he demanded.

Morcar frowned with the effort of trying to penetrate the mist of fever and answer the urgent question. ‘Er. . two, three days ago,’ he said shakily. ‘It had started to rain, and it went on raining. A peddler came out to where we were fishing, and he had a load of cloaks on a barrow. He said they’d keep the wet out, but it’s a useless thing, and what’s more it stinks.’ He must have realized he was rambling and stopped.

Into the silence Sibert whispered, ‘The murdered man wore one just like it.’

I was beginning to understand. As I did so, my fear rapidly escalated. ‘You say the peddler had a load of cloaks?’ Reluctantly, Morcar nodded. ‘And he sold many?’

‘Three or four,’ Morcar managed.

I turned to Sibert and, meeting his eyes, I knew he had reached the same awful conclusion. The men who had attacked Morcar must have found out somehow that they had failed to kill him. They had seen a man in an identical cloak to Morcar’s and, believing it to be their victim, they’d had another go. They can’t have known that men other than Morcar wore similar cloaks; they hadn’t even bothered to check they had the right man by looking at his face.

They had struck him from behind, spearing him to the abbey wall face forward.

My thoughts flew around like a flock of sparrows disturbed by a cat. I forced them still and tried to work out what we should do. It was surely only a matter of time before the murderers realized they had the wrong man — if, that was, Morcar was the intended victim and the dead man had been mistaken for him rather than the other way round. Assuming the worst, that it was Morcar they wanted dead, when they found out they had failed again they would come after him. Sick and injured as he was, with only a youth and a girl to protect him, they would succeed next time. As Morcar had predicted, they would probably kill Sibert and me too.

I was by no means ready to die. I was sure the same applied to Sibert and, as my patient, Morcar was my responsibility.

I turned to Sibert. ‘We need to get Morcar off the island,’ I said. ‘As soon as it’s getting dark you must slip out and find a boat. If we have to use a boatman, we’ll pay him well because he’ll have to keep his mouth shut. Once you’re over the water, beg, borrow or steal a mule and get Morcar on it, then take him to Edild as fast as you can.’ I stopped, breathing hard.

‘What about you?’ Sibert demanded. Morcar was looking at us in horror. ‘Aren’t you coming?’

‘No.’ I knew what I must do, and even as I hatched my plan I knew that someone had done it before me; I was repeating the actions in someone else’s tale. It had worked for them, I reminded myself, or anyway this bit of it had. If the spirits were with me, it might work for me.

‘Why not?’ Morcar whispered, although from the expression in his eyes I think he already knew.

I looked down at him. ‘Because the murderers must not know you’ve gone. If we all leave, there will be nobody to keep up the pretence that you’re still here.’ Sibert began to speak, but I knew what he was going to say and didn’t let him finish. ‘It has to be me,’ I said firmly, ‘because I’m the healer and I know what to do. I’ll bustle about asking for various herbs and preparations as if I’m still treating my patient. I’ll even go to your precious monks, Morcar, and ask their advice.’

Both men were staring at me, neither looking very confident. It was depressing, since I’d hoped they might have more faith in me.

‘It’s dangerous,’ Sibert stated flatly, just as Morcar said, ‘I cannot let you do this.’

I sighed. ‘You don’t let me do things, Morcar, you’re my cousin not my father or my husband,’ I said tetchily. ‘As I keep reminding you, I’m a healer. I have a duty, and if I don’t fulfil it I’m in trouble.’ That was not strictly true, but I hoped neither of them would appreciate it. ‘As to danger, Sibert, there’s only danger around Morcar, so if you take him away and leave me here you’ll actually be making it safer for me.’

There had to be a flaw in that argument, but I couldn’t see it. Nor could Sibert; grudgingly, he muttered, ‘Very well then.’

Quickly, I bent down to Morcar. ‘Now, drink, eat if you can and rest. I will check your foot later, and we’ll wrap you warmly. As soon as night falls, you must go.’

It said a lot about the state my poor cousin was in that he didn’t argue any more but instead gave a feeble nod and fell back limply on his bed. I immediately busied myself with preparing food and hot drinks, going through my herbal supplies in my mind and deciding what remedy I should give to Morcar next. Anything, really, to take my mind off the prospect of that night, after they’d gone.

When I would be quite, quite alone.