Thinking of that made her fears return. So instead she turned her mind to her little house. What would she miss? The song of the birds at dawn. The cry of the vixen and the occasional distant howl of the wolf. The flowers and the herbs in her garden, the rows of simples, ointments and remedies that she had made, bottled and labelled with her own hands.
Josse.
His image was suddenly there before her eyes, unbidden. She had seen him that day when he had come for Utta, and it was only because she had been so quick in slipping into hiding that he had not seen her too. She had gone foraging, leaving Utta happily playing with Meggie beside the stream. Returning, she had heard his voice. Her reaction — the reaction of her body that had loved him and lain with him — had all but taken her breath away.
Utta had asked him to return for her later. Then, as soon as he had gone — was it not just typical of big, kind Josse, Joanna now thought, to understand Utta’s fear and do exactly as she asked? — Utta had sought out Joanna to return Meggie to her and to say goodbye. It had been heartbreaking; Joanna could still remember Utta’s halting words of gratitude and love, still feel the tight hug and the warm tears on her cheek that might have been Utta’s or her own. Then Utta had gone, and Joanna and Meggie were once more alone.
Josse.
He had asked her to marry him once but she had declined, knowing that his heart was not really in it and that he loved another. Also, she knew she was not destined to live the life of a knight’s wife in his cosy manor house; her way was very different.
Josse.
He had planted his seed in her; she had conceived and borne him a daughter. And he did not know. She wished there were some way that he could know without its changing anything. But she did not believe that was possible.
Josse.
‘I am going away,’ she said softly to him, wherever he was. ‘Not for ever, they say. But it may be for a long time.’ She sighed. ‘I loved you, in my way. Perhaps I still do. But it is not destined that our paths run together, not for the moment, anyway.’
No. Her path, or so she understood, was very different.
She got to her feet, gently arranged Meggie in her sling, then picked up her pack. She checked that the fire was quite dead, that everything was as she wished, then went out through the low door and carefully fastened it behind her, concentrating hard and quietly chanting her strongest spell. Then, stepping back a little, she imagined the hut disappearing into its surroundings.
‘Wait for me,’ she said aloud. ‘I’ll be back.’
Then, squinting up at the Sun, she turned on to the track that led off into the north-west and strode away.