However, at times I heard the field men grumble. Or, when they straightened their backs for a moment’s rest, they looked about them with eyes that were not content, but questioned more and more. Their portion was too easy this year and they mistrusted that ease, fearing such might forerun some great difficulty to come.
On the eve of the first full moon, I rode the last wain back from the final field, my bones aching as if I had never known any rest for my body. There was no laughing, nor playing of rude jokes among my crew as had always been the portion of men released from hard but successful labor in other harvest times. I noted that, though our head reaper had woven the last stalks into the rude likeness of the Harvest Maid and the men toasted her in the cider sent to the field, yet they did so without joy, but as if this, too, was a duty that must be followed.
Nor did the Keep stand cheering as our wain trundled in, the Harvest Maid impaled on a pitchfork to top our load, though a semblance of the proper ceremonies existed in that those of the Keep had turned out to see us come into the courtyard. And my uncle gave the signal for a second toasting to the Maid.
I recognized the girl who handed the tankard to me. She served in my mother’s quarters upon occasion. Only now she gave me no smile, nor any word or greeting, but went mumfaced.
With my back set to the wall of the Youths’ Tower for support, my arm so tired that I could hardly force it to rise at my will, I brought the tankard to my lips and drank thirstily. This year even the cider had a bitterness to it that lingered on the tongue, so I did not finish my portion.
I was so spent after I had stumbled up the stairs to my chamber that I made no move to drop my clothing or wash my body in the water that stood waiting. Instead, I straightway fell upon my bed and closed my eyes. And I must have instantly fallen into a deep and dreamless sleep, for of that night, I remembered no more.
My awaking was slow. The sun painted a bright, glittering patch on the floor that hurt my eyes. The mighty ache that had been in my back the night before, now seemed to pulse within my skull. I raised my head, and the stone walls about me wavered, a bitter sickness flooded in my throat.
By will alone I lurched across the chamber to where the tall ewer of water stood. My hands trembled so I had to use both to raise it, and I splashed more liquid to the floor than into the basin beside it. But I scooped up some of what gathered there and dipped my face into it.
The chill of the water on my skin brought me out of the daze that had cloaked me. I was able to master my heaving stomach a little. That I had some illness—no! My mind moved sluggishly, but I was remembering the bitter taste of the cider I had drunk the night before. And she who had brought me the potion was under Ursilla’s bidding.
Now I became aware that the stained and rumpled shirt I had worn to bed was no longer laced, but flapped loosely about me, baring my body and—the belt!
My hands flew to assure me with touch that the report of my eyes was the truth, that it had not been reft from me. However, that theft had been attempted was my strong suspicion. The drink had been drugged. Ursilla knew well the lore of herbs, both helpful and harmful. Such learning was a necessity for any Wise Woman. Why she had not been able to accomplish her purpose while I lay helpless I could not understand. Nor could I confront her, or my mother, with mere suspicion.
But this experience proved that I must begin to mistrust what lay about me. My stubborn conviction that I would not surrender the belt, no matter what scheming might lie behind the Lady Eldris’s gift, was only strengthened by these suspicions. I would not be forced, nor plundered, if I could help it.
While I stripped and bathed in what water was left, brought forth fresh clothing, my mind was busy. It came to me that the moon’s phases might have something to do with Ursilla’s actions. I wished I knew more of shape-changing. Perhaps if I approached Hergil—Dare I? I hesitated to take any action that might reveal a weakness Maughus could seize upon.
Were the Lady Eldris and Thaney only waiting for me now to betray myself? I shrugged on a clean shirt, the linen of its folds pleasantly scented with the herbs used to battle those inroads of damp and mildew that haunted the Keep walls, drew its lacings tight, once more hiding my belt.
Tonight again there was a full moon. I had answered to the wild excitement the belt had engendered the last time only once—on the first night of such a moon. But, since Ursilla’s drugs had prevented me last night from any experience, could it be that the second night might answer as well?
I must know and I could not trust the word of any—even Hergil. Certainly not that of my mother or Ursilla. Therefore, this day I would walk with care, eat and drink with greater concern—which would be easy enough. During the Harvest there were no formal meals within the Great Hall, men were given cakes of journey bread, cheese and dried meat directly from the kitchen when they so called for it. By the temper shown last night, I did not believe that there would be much feasting this day. And, even if such be served, I could fill myself with fruit and the like, avoiding aught that might be meddled with.
When I issued forth from my chamber, it was near midmorning, so long had that drug kept me in thrall. The courtyard, in contrast to the activity of the past few weeks, was almost slumberous. I could hear voices from the stables, but no one moved in the open. Though my stomach had earlier troubled me, now I felt a great hunger and made my way to the buttery hatch where one could obtain a serving of bread and cheese upon demand.
As I rapped upon the sill one of the cook boys bobbed into sight. His own chin was sticky and he was licking crumbs from his lips as he eyed me, flushed of face, as if I had caught him out in some petty pilfering.
“Your wish, Lord?” he squeaked and near choked in the process from some ill-chewed lump he had swallowed in far too great a hurry.
“Bread, cheese—” I told him shortly.
“Cider also?” I shook my head. “What I have said, no more.”
Perhaps my words were a little too forceful, for he looked surprised as he went. I was annoyed by my small self-betrayal. Care and care—that I must take now.
He reappeared with a coarse napkin for a server. In that was a thick portion of bread that had been raggedly slit open and a lump of cheese pushed in. Since the bread was still warm enough to melt the cheese a fraction, I thought I could accept it as trustworthy.
I gave him thanks and, with the napkin in hand, I straightway made for the gate and so came out into the open of the day. The sun blazed overhead with hardly a trace of cloud to be sighted. At this hour the dew was well sucked away from grass and bush, and the mown fields were dusty brown, almost withered looking. I turned my back upon them and went along an ancient path of moss-grown blocks into the garden where herbs and flowers were grown, both for their scents and their healing virtues.
However, here too was company. I heard the higher voices of women, saw three who moved among the late-season roses, harvesting those full-blown blooms that would be rendered into cordials or sugared for sweetmeats. Having seen the maids before they saw me, I slipped into another path, bordered by high-growing berry bushes, now nearly stripped of their fruit burdens.
It was the sound of my own name that made me pause. Though I had no intent of listening to the chatter of those busied with their rose culling, yet to hear oneself spoken of is bait few, if any, can resist.
“It is true—they sent old Malkin to the Youths’ Tower in the night—to the Lord Kethan’s chamber. She came shuffling back, sniffling as if she feared to have her ears boxed near off her head. I would not wish to run errands for the Wise Woman. She—”