Page 68 of While Angels Slept
Gillywiss, pondering the conversation, returned his attention to the satchels against the wall, now open with items scattered. He began to dig around in the bottom of the bag, searching for items he had missed the first time around, but as he groped around, he could hear voices in the forest that were growing louder.
Gillywiss stopped in his rummaging, ears poised and listening. The voices were drawing closer and without delay, he shoved Cantia’s items back in the bag far more carelessly than he had the first time and cinched the bag up. Then he kicked it over against the wall and rushed to the door, opening it just as several people came upon the cabin.
Hunt heard the loud voices and ran to his mother, who gathered him upon her lap and held him tightly. Cantia also made sure to position herself between Arabel and the door, both hiding and protecting the girl. Gillywiss had the door wide open as the group approached.
“What is your trouble?” Gillywiss boomed.
Men were muttering and women seemed to be weeping. “Marna is having her child,” a woman said fearfully. “It cannot be born withouthelp. We must send for a physic.”
Gillywiss was confused. “What do you mean it cannot be born without help?” he demanded, looking to the group. “And where do all of you think to go? It looks like a mob.”
“We were collecting money to pay the physic,” one man said.
Gillywiss waved at them irritably. “We cannot bring a physic here,” he snapped. “If we bring someone from the outside into our lair, the authorities will know where we are. All of you know this. There are many wanted men here, men who will not be jeopardized. Do what can be done for Marna but there will be no physic.”
“But…!” a woman’s voice pleaded. “We cannot simply let her die. Marna and John have waited for this son and…!”
“And they have already lost three,” Gillywiss sounded angry and impatient with them. “This child will be dead like the others. Go back to your homes and let God’s will be done.”
“She is your own sister, for the love of God!”
“And she understands that I cannot allow our people to be put in jeopardy for her sake. Two lives are not worth many.”
“I will help her.”
The soft voice came from behind Gillywiss, inside the hut. Startled, Gillywiss, as well as a few of the people milling outside, turned to see Cantia moving forward in the darkness. Her lovely face was serious and calm.
“I will see what I can do,” she said evenly. “I have helped birth many a child. Perhaps I can do something.”
The women seemed willing, the men hesitant. Cantia’s gaze was unwavering upon Gillywiss as she hoped he would allow her to help the woman and perhaps thereby gain even more sympathy from the man in her quest to be released. When she should have felt guilty of her ulterior motives other than the milk of human kindness, she couldn’t muster the will. She was determined to do anything she could in order to secure their release and this was a brilliant opportunity.
“No,” Gillywiss said flatly.
“Aye!” a pair of women cried, moving for Cantia and reaching out to grasp her. “Let the lady help!” one of them wept.
The women had Cantia by the wrist, pulling her from the hut. Gillywiss started to protest but he was drowned out as more women took up the cry and began parading Cantia across the dark encampment, heading for a cluster of huts off to the northwest. Annoyed, he went in pursuit.
Cantia was most interested to realize that the group of women had been able to override Gillywiss’ wants. She tucked that knowledge back in her memory, wondering if she would have need of it at some point, as the women took her to a hut wedged beneath a pair of big oaks. The structure was made from rocks and sod, just like the others in the clandestine village, and the door itself was very nice and looked as if it might have been stolen from a manse or even a church. It had saints and gargoyles carved into it. Cantia was looking at the door curiously when it abruptly opened.
More women were inside the cramped hut, the smell of smoke and some kind of herb very heavy in the air. It was dark and crowded inside, and Cantia suddenly felt a little uncertain as someone gently pushed her inside. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. But she heard groaning and struggled to adjust her eyes to the dim light. On a pallet in one corner of the room, a heavy-set woman lay on her back and moaned. The sound was enough to drive the uncertainty out of Cantia.
Dropping to her knees next to the miserable woman, she went to work.
*
“Hunt, youmust,” Arabel hissed. “No one is watching us right now. You must escape and tell my father where we are.”
Hunt was looking at Arabel dubiously. “But I do not know where we are,” he said. “And what about my mother?”
Arabel thought quickly. Her mind was very cunning, like her father’s, as she tried to think of a way out of their predicament.
“I would go if I could,” she whispered. “But I cannot. You are our only hope, Hunt. Your mother is in trouble and I fear what they will do to her. Can you not see that?”
Hunt nodded solemnly, fearfully. He was too young to fully grasp what kind of trouble his mother was in, or they were in generally, but he knew the situation was bad. And he was scared now that his mother had left them. Brow furrowed, he plopped next to Arabel as she lay on the makeshift pallet of rushes and musty skins.
“What do I do?” he asked. “How do I go home?”
Arabel put her slender hand on his wrist. “Do you remember the night we were captured that the moon was very bright?”
