Page 36 of Flanders' Folly
Snorre nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps we should ask the witch."
"Her name is Brigid," Flanders said sharply.
"Aye, Brigid then," Snorre amended with a knowing glance at the others. "But my point stands. She might have…insights we lack."
"She's a healer and herb-woman," Flanders protested, though even as he said it, he remembered her vision of death and chaos. The vision that had come true for her sister.
"Still," Robert mused, "she may know something.”
Flanders shook his head. “No. But there is a woman we should have added to our council. I shall speak with her."
"Assuming she'll speak to ye," Hemming muttered with a grin.
"I refer to Lady Stephan. Surely, she’ll know her husband’s mind better than anyone. If Stephan has a secret move to make, she’ll ken it."
18
NOT SO COMPLICATED
* * *
Brigid found Gerts in a small chamber above stairs sorting through a basket of clothing. The older woman's face brightened when she saw her, though the smile held back a world of grief. She retreated to a long bench and patted the empty space beside her.
"Come sit with me, child."
Brigid joined her and together, they held hands and listened to the distant bustling of a castle preparing for a siege.
"I am sorry," Gerts said quietly. "Bella was a joy."
An unexpected sob caught Brigid off guard. "I keep turning to tell her something, and she's not there."
Gerts set aside her wad of clothing, took Brigid into her arms, and let her weep until she was exhausted. A great storm had been brewing inside her and now that it had been unleashed, there was no reining it back. And through it all, Gerts held on.
Finally, the wave of grief began to ebb, and she straightened and mopped her face. "We could speak through our thoughts, did ye know that? We didn't need words.” Brigid swallowed back another sob for fear of starting all over again. "Now there's just...silence."
Gerts nodded, her eyes glistening. "I remember how the two of ye would laugh, suddenly, as if ye’d heard the same jest, when not a word was spoken. So aye, I suspected as much."
"It was four years ago we saw our deaths in yer forest. I was always so certain it would be the both of us.”
"And yet, here ye are." Gerts squeezed her fingers. "Perhaps ye were spared for a reason."
"A reason for her and not for me?”
"No one can know, lass. But remember that Bella would rejoice that ye were spared, so ye should do the same. To do otherwise is to mock her memory."
For the first time since it happened, Brigid felt the weight of a sister’s responsibility lighten, if only a little. But it was enough to give her a dose of hope. Maybe her duty wasn’t to grieve for the rest of her life after all. Bella certainly wouldn’t want that.
She considered her friend. "How can ye be so calm? Yer husband sits outside these walls, demanding the return of us all."
Gerts snorted, some of her usual spirit back in her smile. "Hector doesn't want me back because he misses me. He hates to lose, especially to Flanders Leesborn."
"Why especially?"
"Because Flanders was James Duncan's right hand, and James was the bane of Hector’s existence." Gerts chuckled. "That man drove my husband to distraction. James with his clever words, almost magical fighting skills, and his strange ways…”
"Magical fighting?”
“Auch, ye’d have to see it to believe it. Taught Flanders and all his fighting men as well. The Bruce favored no man without good reason.”
