Chapter 5
Vatta led us another half-mile or so through the woods, down through heavily vegetated gullies where even the songbirds fell silent.
I had to clutch at the exposed roots of the trees in order not to trip, but Belis had no problems keeping up with Vatta.
Both of them bounded down like spring lambs and looked irritated whenever they had to pause and wait for me.
Eventually we halted in a patch of woodland seemingly no different from any other.
Belis looked around, clearly confused as to why we had stopped again.
Vatta paused to check I had caught up. Then she went up to the nearest tree, an enormous spreading oak, and rummaged in the thick ivy that coated the trunk.
She pulled out a rope and tugged on it. A ladder tumbled down from one of the branches above.
I looked up, squinting through the leaves.
There didn’t seem to be anything there. I could see through the leaves all the way to the chinks of blue sky.
These days my eyes had become significantly less reliable at seeing things that were hidden, so I followed Vatta up the ladder.
My second tree climb of the day was less successful than my first. Even with Belis holding the ropes taut on the ground the ladder wriggled underneath my hands and feet and it took me an embarrassingly long time to haul myself up to the branch.
Vatta ended up helping, gripping me under my shoulders and heaving me up the last few rungs until I finally collapsed, frustrated and exhausted, at the top.
When I got my bearings I found that I was sprawled out on neat wooden planks, nailed in a wide circle around the main tree trunk.
I took Vatta’s outstretched hand and let her help me to stand.
She smiled at me then leaned over to help Belis who was swarming up the ladder behind me as if she did it every day of her life, the show-off.
My old body would have leapt up without even the need for the ladder, reaching for a branch and swinging myself up.
I squinted at the tree trunk, trying to see past the glamour.
The air shimmered and rippled and suddenly I was staring at a small cottage, built from blocks of creamy limestone and thatched with thick golden straw.
It looked as if a giant had picked up a completely ordinary peasant’s house and dumped it in the middle of the tree, with no regard for how it would stay up or whether the tree could bear the weight.
That was possible, I supposed, but unlikely.
I took a step closer, one hand on the railing, and peered out.
Parts of the house seemed to be hanging out over the air. Vatta clapped me on the back.
“Welcome to my home, Mallt Y Nos. It is an honour to host you.”
I smiled back at her. “Yes, it probably is.”
She laughed and stepped towards the whitewashed front door.
It swung open before she had even reached out a hand to touch it and the witch disappeared inside.
I glanced at Belis and then followed her in.
The cottage was artificially stretched out, much larger than I had expected from outside.
Even the additional space seemed cramped as it was absolutely packed with things.
Piles of vellum scrolls covered in a spidery acorn-ink handwriting littered the floor, drying herbs hung from the rafters, an entire deer skeleton wired together with gleaming copper string stood in front of a wooden bed piled high with blankets.
Half-completed knitted scarves were draped from the skeleton’s antlers and a gently turning potter’s wheel spattered clay across the floorboards in the corner of the room.
I skittered backwards on instinct as something on the floor moved towards me, then relaxed as I recognised what it was.
A fully grown chicken was pecking at a half-opened scroll.
I looked closer and saw more chickens, scratching on the table, nesting in between cushions and on windowsills.
Looking out over the entire mess, with all the royal disdain of Gwyn ap Nudd himself, was an enormous ginger cat lounging in the very centre of the kitchen table, flicking his tail and glaring at the intrusion of strangers into what he clearly considered to be his domain.
I picked my way through the chaos and took a seat at the table. Then I stood up again and removed the speckled chicken egg that had been left there. I handed it to Vatta and sat down again. She put it into one of her pockets and beamed at me.
“What can I get you? Water, wine, mead, apple juice?” she asked, clattering about in a cupboard.
“Water, please,” I said, at the same moment Belis asked for “Wine if you have it.”
We glared at each other then looked away. Vatta set three smooth earthenware cups on the table, filled one from a ewer of water near the roof and the others from a jug of wine. Belis moved to sit down at the opposite end of the table. She picked up a scroll that the chicken had been pecking at.
“Is this Greek?” she asked, turning it over in her hands.
“Yes, Plato’s Republic. One of the earlier volumes.” Vatta puttered over to peer at the scroll. “Do you read Greek, my dear?”
Belis shook her head, holding the parchment as if it was as delicate as a butterfly’s wings.
“No, only Latin and some runes. I just recognised some of the characters. How did you come to learn Greek? There can’t be many traders this far west and you said you didn’t speak with the Romans.”
I detected an edge to her voice and realised without knowing how that she had tensed, ready to grab for her knife again.
Vatta yawned. “Oh, I intercepted a wagonload of goods going along the road to Glevum a few years back. Mostly records and logistics but a few interesting books here and there. I taught myself the basics with a spell of understanding.”
“Intercepted?” I asked. Vatta grinned at me then nodded to the cup of water she had poured. “Replaced the whole lot with chicken dung. They stopped disrespecting me after that. Drink up. You will stay here tonight, and tomorrow I will direct you to a farm that will sell you horses.”
I took a sip of the water. It was clear and fresh, with the slight acidic tang that water from this part of the world always had. Belis drank her wine and eagerly accepted the tranches of bread, meat and cheese that Vatta served us.
I offered a piece of the cheese to the cat, who deigned to take it from me without biting my hand. I muffled a yawn of my own. Sharp-eyed Vatta saw it.
“Go and rest. I am sure Belis and I will find something to talk about.”
I glanced longingly at the bed and realised it had been almost two days since I had slept, then back at Belis. She nodded.
“Go. I would say we are as safe here as anywhere in Britain. Besides, I want to talk witchcraft with Vatta and I doubt that will interest you.”
I slid down from the seat and padded over to the bed. I kicked off my boots and collapsed onto the blankets. It was warm and cosy and the clucking of chickens was surprisingly soothing. I fell asleep almost instantly.
By the time I woke, the shutters were closed and flames were burning merrily in the brick fireplace.
It took me a moment to remember where I was – it had been the first true rest I had had since losing my immortal form.
There was a comforting warmth in the bed beside me.
I sat up. Belis was lying next to me, her head on a pillow next to my feet.
Her hair was loose, covering her shoulders in a wave of copper curls She looked younger, gentler than I had seen her before, the fatigue and grief of the last week smoothed away by sleep.
I felt my frustrations with her fade, just a little, and something knotted inside me. Probably hunger.
I gingerly picked myself up out of the bed, trying not to disturb her, and padded over towards the kitchen table, wiggling my toes on the smooth polished floorboards.
Vatta was seated on a long bench, fingers busy making what looked like a fishing lure out of twine and chicken feathers. I took a seat beside her and she nodded towards a bowl covered with a fine linen cloth.
“Your dinner. We didn’t want to wake you.”
I lifted the cloth, revealing a lamb stew.
I spooned some of it into my mouth. It was delicious, still warm and well salted.
The best food of the fae courts could not compete with this fresh fare.
We sat in silence for a while as I ate, disturbed only by the clucking of the roosting chickens and the faint growling purrs of Vatta’s cat.
I finished my bowl and pushed it away, resting a contented hand on my stomach. “Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb Belis. “I appreciate your offerings. I will repay your faith when I am restored.”
Vatta smiled at me then stood up.
“Come, let us talk outside. That princess of yours needs her rest.”
I glanced at Belis then grabbed my cloak from where it had been hung over one of the antlers of the deer skeleton.
Vatta opened the door for me and we slipped out onto the planked decking.
She led me around from the entrance to the back of the cottage where a pair of rocking chairs had been placed in front of a gap in the canopy.
I sat in the left-hand chair and looked out.
The sky was clear and the stars were bright in the firmament.
My eyesight was not as good as it had been, but it still filled my heart to see my old friends.
I had spent countless nights staring up at the stars and they were one of the last links back to my old life left to me.
Below them the woods of the Cotswold hills faded into the floodplain of the Severn, which glittered silver in the starlight as it wound its way into the west.
“Pretty view, isn’t it,” said Vatta, taking the other chair and leaning back. “I can see all the way to the Brecon Beacons on a clear day. Mind you, it’s bitter cold when the wind is in the west.”