“What are you talking about?”
Roxanne shook her head slowly. “I have a gown I must fit to you, Miriam,” she said. “Will you come to my house? I can have it ready by tomorrow morning if we do this today.”
Miriam had the feeling that Roxanne had told her as much as she wanted, but not as much as she could. “I'll come,” she said, still wondering what the witch had meant. For a moment, she thought about being a tall, strong warrior, about hunting down her rapist and killing him. She laughed ruefully to herself. Another barred path, another sealed door.
But Miriam suddenly found herself wondering: Was it so barred? Was it so sealed?
What had happened to Jaques Alban? And what about the Leather Woman?
***
Kay made his way up the street, his arms folded in his sleeves and his soutane flapping in the breezes that came down from the north. There was a good, hearty scent of forest in the air, as if Old Malvern were cupping the village gently in its gnarled hands and wishing it a blessed spring.
He stopped at the low fence that surrounded Andrew's house. Elizabeth waved at him from the doorway. “Andrew's in the shop,” she called. Philip, her youngest, dodged around her, vaulted the fence, and took off down the street. “Philip! Use the gate!” But he was already gone, and she laughed.
Kay laughed, too, and went round the corner of the house. Andrew was hammering pegs into a bench log. A pot of glue sat beside him on the floor. He looked up at Kay's approach. “God bless,” said Kay.
“Be at peace,” said Andrew. There were wood chips and sawdust in his sandy hair and he shook them out. “Is it that time already? The morning went quickly.”
“Very quickly,” said Kay. “My brother lost and found his foot at the forge between prime and terce.” Andrew looked puzzled. “There was an accident,” explained Kay. “Some pulleys fell on his foot.”
“Dear Lady! Is he all right?”
“Roxanne came for Miriam. She healed him.”
Andrew smiled. He took a rag and cleaned his hands of glue. “Bless her. Is she feeling better then?”
“I don't think so,” said Kay. “She ran off after it all. Roxanne followed. She might be able to help. Woman to woman and all that.”
“I hope so.” Andrew opened the door into the house. “I'm off now, Elizabeth. I'll be home for supper.” He blew her a kiss.
As they crossed the fields on their way to the forest, Kay noted that the crops were coming along fine. Of course they were. With Roxanne in the village and the Elves in the forest, could they do otherwise?
“She's such a mite of a girl,” said Andrew as they approached the trees. “No bigger than Charity. I remember thinking that when I found her on the road. And the thought of someone mistreating Charity like that . . . well . . .”
The carpenter was a quiet, gentle man, but Kay noticed that his lips were pressed together, his fists clenched.
“That time's long past,” said the priest. “No one is mistreating Charity–or Miriam–now.”
“I don't understand it,” said the carpenter. “I just don't. Poor Miriam. I wish her well.”
“We all do,” said Kay. “How is Charity? How are her studies?”
“Oh,” said Andrew with a laugh, “she's fine. And since Roxanne took her on, she's been better than fine. She's growing up, looking like the lovely woman I know she'll be. She's like a butterfly: always cheering people up wherever she goes. But she can't tell me much about her studies. It's all secret. Only witches can know, and I've no desire to become a witch.”
“I can see why,” said Kay seriously. “After all, you're almost an Elf already.”
The two men looked at each other and laughed. “Hardly,” said Andrew. “Although Varden did say it could rub off. Look at Roxanne. For that matter, look at Charity.” His eyes twinkled. “Or yourself, Kay.”
They approached a small house that was nearly hidden among the first ranks of trees. The facade had been carefully
Roxanne shook her head slowly. “I have a gown I must fit to you, Miriam,” she said. “Will you come to my house? I can have it ready by tomorrow morning if we do this today.”
Miriam had the feeling that Roxanne had told her as much as she wanted, but not as much as she could. “I'll come,” she said, still wondering what the witch had meant. For a moment, she thought about being a tall, strong warrior, about hunting down her rapist and killing him. She laughed ruefully to herself. Another barred path, another sealed door.
But Miriam suddenly found herself wondering: Was it so barred? Was it so sealed?
What had happened to Jaques Alban? And what about the Leather Woman?
***
Kay made his way up the street, his arms folded in his sleeves and his soutane flapping in the breezes that came down from the north. There was a good, hearty scent of forest in the air, as if Old Malvern were cupping the village gently in its gnarled hands and wishing it a blessed spring.
He stopped at the low fence that surrounded Andrew's house. Elizabeth waved at him from the doorway. “Andrew's in the shop,” she called. Philip, her youngest, dodged around her, vaulted the fence, and took off down the street. “Philip! Use the gate!” But he was already gone, and she laughed.
Kay laughed, too, and went round the corner of the house. Andrew was hammering pegs into a bench log. A pot of glue sat beside him on the floor. He looked up at Kay's approach. “God bless,” said Kay.
“Be at peace,” said Andrew. There were wood chips and sawdust in his sandy hair and he shook them out. “Is it that time already? The morning went quickly.”
“Very quickly,” said Kay. “My brother lost and found his foot at the forge between prime and terce.” Andrew looked puzzled. “There was an accident,” explained Kay. “Some pulleys fell on his foot.”
“Dear Lady! Is he all right?”
“Roxanne came for Miriam. She healed him.”
Andrew smiled. He took a rag and cleaned his hands of glue. “Bless her. Is she feeling better then?”
“I don't think so,” said Kay. “She ran off after it all. Roxanne followed. She might be able to help. Woman to woman and all that.”
“I hope so.” Andrew opened the door into the house. “I'm off now, Elizabeth. I'll be home for supper.” He blew her a kiss.
As they crossed the fields on their way to the forest, Kay noted that the crops were coming along fine. Of course they were. With Roxanne in the village and the Elves in the forest, could they do otherwise?
“She's such a mite of a girl,” said Andrew as they approached the trees. “No bigger than Charity. I remember thinking that when I found her on the road. And the thought of someone mistreating Charity like that . . . well . . .”
The carpenter was a quiet, gentle man, but Kay noticed that his lips were pressed together, his fists clenched.
“That time's long past,” said the priest. “No one is mistreating Charity–or Miriam–now.”
“I don't understand it,” said the carpenter. “I just don't. Poor Miriam. I wish her well.”
“We all do,” said Kay. “How is Charity? How are her studies?”
“Oh,” said Andrew with a laugh, “she's fine. And since Roxanne took her on, she's been better than fine. She's growing up, looking like the lovely woman I know she'll be. She's like a butterfly: always cheering people up wherever she goes. But she can't tell me much about her studies. It's all secret. Only witches can know, and I've no desire to become a witch.”
“I can see why,” said Kay seriously. “After all, you're almost an Elf already.”
The two men looked at each other and laughed. “Hardly,” said Andrew. “Although Varden did say it could rub off. Look at Roxanne. For that matter, look at Charity.” His eyes twinkled. “Or yourself, Kay.”
They approached a small house that was nearly hidden among the first ranks of trees. The facade had been carefully
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