the edge of the group while she washed Baldwin’s wounds), and there was only her Aunt Mariota left sitting impassively in the doorway, her needle rising and falling with her stitching.
‘This is a fine mess, isn’t it?’ Mariota said when she felt Tedia’s eyes upon her. She was a large woman with pendulous breasts under her shift from birthing and nursing eight boys. Three of them had survived to adulthood, a good record. ‘I wonder where the man’s ship struck.’
‘He doesn’t have the look of a sailor,’ Tedia said reflectively.
‘No,’ Mariota laughed. She held out her own hands, heavy and powerful like a man’s. Work had made them hard, just as it had made her arms more powerful than many a smith’s. ‘Look, mine are more horny than his! He must have an easy life of it. You mark my words: he’s a rich man.’
Tedia felt her aunt’s eyes on her. Mariota had the sharp intelligence of a woman who was used to dealing with her own problems alone, ever since her husband had died, many years before, in another storm. ‘You mean he may pay me for saving him?’
‘No. You know what I mean. When you have got divorced from that wastrel, you—’
‘There’s no need to call Isok a wastrel. He has done all he can.’
‘You protest all you want, maid. I only say what everyone else thinks. He may be a good enough fisherman, but he can’t snare his own wife, can he? What sort of a man does that make him? You mark my words, you’ll be best off without him. Feel sorry for him, by all means, but you need a new life. A new man.’
‘Hehas been a good husband to me,’ Tedia stated, and left her aunt sitting there on her stool with her wise old eyes sparkling with humour.
The trouble was, there were no secrets on an island. She had gone to Luke, and already her aunt knew all about it. So did everybody else on the island. As she left her home, Tedia was sure that she could feel their eyes on her. She set her back defiantly and strode proudly, bucket in hand, to fetch fresh water.
Meanwhile, in William’s church of St Mary’s on Ennor, Simon Puttock felt his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Soon after William had left him, he nodded, his chin resting on his breast, and when he came to with a start, he saw that an old man with a long, skeletal frame was sitting cross-legged at the cabin-boy’s side.
He had a hand on the boy’s wrist, and he mumbled to himself softly. As he spoke, he lifted his other hand outstretched, and then slowly let it fall towards the boy’s chest. Simon almost expected to hear something as it touched, but there was nothing, only a sudden pause in the old man’s voice.
‘He’ll be well now.’
‘Who are you?’ Simon asked. He had no need to ask what the man had done. He was a charmer, a man who could cure animals of most ailments. Such men were prized in vills of all sizes, although often frowned upon by the Church.
‘I’m known as Hamadus. It’s a good enough name, I daresay, master.’
‘Tell me, where are we?’ Simon asked. ‘The priest told me, but …’
‘But you were tired. Yes, you did well, master, getting all the way here. You are on the island of Ennor. It’s south and west of your land.’
‘Ennor.’ Simon had heard of it before.
‘It is owned by the Earl of Cornwall,’ Hamadus added helpfully.
It was little help to Simon. The information only made him realise how much further he must travel to get to his home. ‘Christ’s blood, and I have to cross the damned water again,’ he groaned.
‘Toget home?’ Hamadus cackled. ‘Of course, my friend. You can go nowhere from here without getting your feet wet, apart from to other islands, when you’re very lucky and the tide’s well out.’
‘I don’t want to go to other islands,’ Simon said. ‘I only want to make my way home.’
‘You’ll have a wait. There’s a boat every once in a while.’
‘What of all the ships based here on the islands?’
Hamadus shrugged with
‘This is a fine mess, isn’t it?’ Mariota said when she felt Tedia’s eyes upon her. She was a large woman with pendulous breasts under her shift from birthing and nursing eight boys. Three of them had survived to adulthood, a good record. ‘I wonder where the man’s ship struck.’
‘He doesn’t have the look of a sailor,’ Tedia said reflectively.
‘No,’ Mariota laughed. She held out her own hands, heavy and powerful like a man’s. Work had made them hard, just as it had made her arms more powerful than many a smith’s. ‘Look, mine are more horny than his! He must have an easy life of it. You mark my words: he’s a rich man.’
Tedia felt her aunt’s eyes on her. Mariota had the sharp intelligence of a woman who was used to dealing with her own problems alone, ever since her husband had died, many years before, in another storm. ‘You mean he may pay me for saving him?’
‘No. You know what I mean. When you have got divorced from that wastrel, you—’
‘There’s no need to call Isok a wastrel. He has done all he can.’
‘You protest all you want, maid. I only say what everyone else thinks. He may be a good enough fisherman, but he can’t snare his own wife, can he? What sort of a man does that make him? You mark my words, you’ll be best off without him. Feel sorry for him, by all means, but you need a new life. A new man.’
‘Hehas been a good husband to me,’ Tedia stated, and left her aunt sitting there on her stool with her wise old eyes sparkling with humour.
The trouble was, there were no secrets on an island. She had gone to Luke, and already her aunt knew all about it. So did everybody else on the island. As she left her home, Tedia was sure that she could feel their eyes on her. She set her back defiantly and strode proudly, bucket in hand, to fetch fresh water.
Meanwhile, in William’s church of St Mary’s on Ennor, Simon Puttock felt his eyes growing heavier with each passing moment. Soon after William had left him, he nodded, his chin resting on his breast, and when he came to with a start, he saw that an old man with a long, skeletal frame was sitting cross-legged at the cabin-boy’s side.
He had a hand on the boy’s wrist, and he mumbled to himself softly. As he spoke, he lifted his other hand outstretched, and then slowly let it fall towards the boy’s chest. Simon almost expected to hear something as it touched, but there was nothing, only a sudden pause in the old man’s voice.
‘He’ll be well now.’
‘Who are you?’ Simon asked. He had no need to ask what the man had done. He was a charmer, a man who could cure animals of most ailments. Such men were prized in vills of all sizes, although often frowned upon by the Church.
‘I’m known as Hamadus. It’s a good enough name, I daresay, master.’
‘Tell me, where are we?’ Simon asked. ‘The priest told me, but …’
‘But you were tired. Yes, you did well, master, getting all the way here. You are on the island of Ennor. It’s south and west of your land.’
‘Ennor.’ Simon had heard of it before.
‘It is owned by the Earl of Cornwall,’ Hamadus added helpfully.
It was little help to Simon. The information only made him realise how much further he must travel to get to his home. ‘Christ’s blood, and I have to cross the damned water again,’ he groaned.
‘Toget home?’ Hamadus cackled. ‘Of course, my friend. You can go nowhere from here without getting your feet wet, apart from to other islands, when you’re very lucky and the tide’s well out.’
‘I don’t want to go to other islands,’ Simon said. ‘I only want to make my way home.’
‘You’ll have a wait. There’s a boat every once in a while.’
‘What of all the ships based here on the islands?’
Hamadus shrugged with
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