Chapter 48 #3
Bramble wagged his tail. He trotted at Avice’s heels to join the end of the queue that led to the serving window.
They shuffled forward slowly, as the server handed over the pasties wrapped in waxed cloth to customer after customer.
Avice’s mouth watered at the moreish, savoury smell of flaky pastry and mince.
She could not recall the last time she had one.
Her stomach growled, and they took a step forward as another customer was served.
She scanned the square as they waited and narrowed her gaze at the vine-covered church.
It had felt like a lifetime ago when she was last there.
Yet, the thought of the buzzing and screams niggled at her.
What was the source? She pricked with guilt that she had not investigated further.
But when had she had the opportunity to enquire?
Between the marked children, Trewoofe’s poisoning and his care, and the blizzard there had been no time.
She was tempted to march into the church and poke around.
Something, deep in her gut, warned her to keep her away.
Her intuition told her it was not safe, and quite frankly, she had enough of putting everything else before her own wellbeing.
She took another step forward and a tug at her sleeve had her looking over her shoulder. “Nell!”
The girl smiled. “Hello, Miss Avice.”
The midwife hugged the girl, knocking loose the coif she wore on her head. A curl of her red hair escaped the covering. “I have missed you, darling.” She looked left and right. “Where is your brother?”
Avice still bristled at his betrayal, and she was not sure what she would say to him.
Nell shook her head. “He is out fishing. I am with Goodwife Beatrice today.”
She waved at the woman who was making her way over, her toddler on her hip. Avice arched an eyebrow at that. John had asked his former lover’s wife to look after his sister.
How awkward.
“Miss Avice.” Nell tugged on her sleeve again, drawing her attention. “I saw a green Good Neighbour in the woods yesterday.”
She clenched her jaw. “Did you tell them to leave you alone?”
The girl nodded. “He asked me to come and play with him, but I said no.” Bramble nudged her hand, and the girl scratched his head. “Hello!”
Good afternoon, he whuffed, despite Nell not being able to hear him.
Avice let out a breath. Faeries were always more drawn to those gifted with the sight, and to children. Their desire to steal a girl like Nell was amplified due to her abilities.
“Well done,” she praised. “You need to tell them to leave you alone when they bother you.”
“That is what I did. He was big and green, and had a sk—”
“Nell!” Goodwife Beatrice placed a hand on her shoulder while jiggling her son on her hip. “What have I told you about talking of the little devils from the woods?”
The girl dropped her head, her lip quivering. “That I should not.”
Avice met the woman’s eye, shooting her a look so fierce it could make the plants wither. “She can speak to me about what she likes.”
“Midwife Avice,” Beatrice greeted. She glanced around and then lowered her voice. “It is not safe to discuss this so openly.” She dropped her gaze to Bramble. “He should not be here either.”
Her familiar stopped licking Nell’s hand and flattened his ears.
Avice pinched her face. “Why?”
It was finally their turn in the queue, and she fished out the pennies to pay for as many pasties as she could.
She had been looking forward to munching on one, but her appetite had vanished.
The server wrapped her order in wax cloth and the group moved over to the shade of a blossoming and fruiting apple tree.
Beatrice leaned in closer. “Because Father Peter and the Moot council are enforcing the laws.”
“What laws?” Avice asked, stomach turning.
Beatrice flicked her gaze to Nell and her son. “Obedience, meekness, discipline, tithe, and attendance at the church.” She settled on Bramble again. “Anything that goes against Christendom is now considered punishable.”
“Punishable? How?”
Beatrice nodded in the direction of the stocks and gallows. “You must be careful,” she whispered. “You, your hound, and Nell.”
“I understand,” Avice replied. “We must be going, but Nell, before I leave, I want to apologise to you.”
The girl threw her a puzzled look. “Why?”
“I snapped at you, back at the church when I last saw you.”
Nell laughed. “I had forgotten all about that.”
She smiled and pecked a kiss to the top of the girl’s head. “Well, I am sorry all the same. I will take my leave now.”
With a nod to Beatrice, Avice and Bramble made for the sanctuary of the woods.
She let out a breath and rolled her neck.
The stiffness released from her body the moment she moved from the village and into the trees.
She had always felt tense when she visited central Lamorna, but the anxiety of being around the villagers had multiplied tenfold.
Avice?
“What is it, Bramble?” she asked.
Can I have my pasty now?
Avice broke out into laughter and reached into her satchel, tugging one from the wrap. She tossed it for him; he bounded ahead and caught it midair. He chomped it down in two bites, tail swishing with delight.
Delicious, you should try one, he yipped.
She pressed a hand to her belly. “Maybe later. I am feeling unwell after all that. I just want to go home.”
Home then, and tomorrow the King is coming. That will cheer you up, he teased.
She chuckled at him. “It definitely will.”