Ravenwood (26 page)

Amber was standing close enough to hear her mutter and she choked back a laugh.

Tanyth grinned at her and picked up the smoldering herbs. She took it to the north side of the hut to the middle of the wall where the back door was open onto the narrow bit of cleared land before the forest. She held up the bundle in front of her face and a wisp of smoke curled up to the rafters. “Guardian of the North, Bones of the Earth, protect this place from evil.” She walked the perimeter of the room to the east and stopped in front of the fireplace which made up most of the narrower east wall. “Guardian of the East, Breath of the Earth, protect this place from evil.” She continued around to stand in front of the front door, facing south and looking out onto the narrow track that led up to the village. “Guardian of the South, Spirit of the Earth, protect this place from evil.” She went to the plain west wall and held the bundle once more. Guardian of the West, Blood of the Earth, protect this place from evil.” She walked back around to where she began and made a swirl of smoke in the air as if tying a knot. “By my will and with this smoke, I bind this place once and beg the protection of the guardians.” She walked around the circuit again, stopping at each cardinal point and making a similar swirl of smoke until she returned to the north. “By my will and with this smoke, I bind this place twice and beg the protection of the All-Father upon this house.” She walked once more around pausing again and leaving a trail of pungent herbal smoke in her wake. “By my will and with this smoke, I bind this place thrice and beg the blessings of the All-Mother upon all who live within.” She took the bundle of sage to the hearth and blew on it until it flared from glowing smolder into bright fire. “With earth and air and fire and water, I beg the blessings of the All-Mother upon this hearth and all that shelter here.” She tossed the burning sage into the prepared shavings. The fire caught the shavings and spread into the dried kindling. Tanyth finished the ritual by dipping her hand in the water bucket and flicking a few drops of water onto the hearthstone, where they showed dark against the dry rock. “So mote it be.”

She stood for a moment and admired her handiwork, before drying her hands off on the seat of her pants and turning back to Amber and Matthew. They stood transfixed, staring at her. Matthew’s mouth did not exactly hang open, but he looked at once dazed and totally focused.

“What is it? You two look like you’ve seen a haunt or something.”

Amber blinked back from wherever her mind had taken her. “That was wonderful, mum! I’ve never seen a blessing like that before.”

Tanyth shrugged. “What did Mother Alderton do?”

Amber shrugged. “She just stood at the threshold and said, ’Bless this house and all who live here.’”

Tanyth smiled. “Well, that seems to have worked for her.” She looked about the house. “I learned this from Mother Willowton, I think it was. She used to really get into blessing houses. She’d use salt and fire and water.” Tanyth chuckled at the memory. “It could take her half a day sometimes to get through all the prayers when she did it for somebody else. I stayed with her one whole winter and when it came time to do her own house, she always cleansed it with burning sage.” Tanyth shrugged. “I think she just liked to put on a show for her customers.”

Amber and Matthew laughed, taken off guard by her frank appraisal of the mystical.

She smiled, satisfied, and felt more at home in the small hut already. She saw William bringing the first load of goods down from Megan’s house and they all jumped to help him. Some of the goods–like blankets and clothing–were left to air out a bit, while other items came right in. Tanyth arranged the furnishings the way she remembered Megan’s house, hoping to make the younger woman feel more at home. She knew it wasn’t going to be an easy time until Harry returned, but she vowed to herself to make it as easy as she knew how.

Chapter 24
New demands

By the time the sun reached the treetops on its way toward night, Megan, Tanyth and the children were all safely settled in the new house. The whole village had a finer understanding of why a careful watch was necessary, but still no better idea about how to deal with the issue. Birchwood could come at them from any direction at any time, and they could only watch and wait for his next move.

It came sooner than they expected.

Just as the sun disappeared behind the treetops, but before true sunset, a voice rang out. “Mapleton! William Mapleton! Come out!”

The voice cut across the village from the direction of the Pike and doors popped open at the call, yellow firelight showing silhouettes of heads and shoulders. Thomas popped around the corner of a house and drew an arrow but held his fire as he saw who and what was riding up the path.

William boiled out of his house and ran toward the approaching riders but halted twenty paces back. Tanyth watched from the safety of the house with Megan by her side. The children sensed something amiss and stayed quiet. Little Sandy crawled up the step to peek her head just over the threshold.

Andrew Birchwood sat nonchalantly astride his horse. In front of him in the saddle sat a very pale and frightened looking Riley Mapleton. “Well, good evening, William.” Birchwood pitched his voice to play to the audience. “I trust you’ll stand your ground there and keep your archer in check?” He smiled. It wasn’t a good look for him.

“Riley? Are you alright?” William ignored Birchwood for the moment.

“I’m fine, Papa. I’m sorry, but–”

Birchwood patted the boy on the shoulder with his left hand. “That’s enough, Riley. You’ll be quite silent now, won’t you? That’s a good lad.” Birchwood flourished the dagger he held in his right and turned back to the father. “Now that I have your attention, there’s the small matter of–how do we phrase this?” He made a show of thinking. “Oh, yes. Insurance. That’s the term.”

William’s face clouded and his fist clenched as he held himself helplessly in check. “Extortion, I think is the term you’re struggling with, Birchwood.”

“Oh, come now, William. Extortion is such a nasty word.” He shrugged. “I’m just a businessman, trying to turn a profit. You’re an honest man trying to protect what’s yours. I can respect that, William. I can.” His voice was oily and ingratiating. He patted Riley on the shoulder once more. “Young Riley, here, for example. It would be tragic should anything happen to him, now wouldn’t it.”

William took a deep breath. “What do you want, Birchwood? State your claim.”

“Oh, I’m not a greedy man, William. I think a nice little operation like this should be able to afford, say, five hundred golds. Insurance, you understand, to make sure that nothing unfortunate happens?”

“Five hundred golds?!” William practically choked. “And you seriously believe we have five hundred golds here!”

Birchwood made a small tsk sound with his lips. “Oh, don’t play coy, William. Of course you have it. I’ve seen the wagon carrying your cargo into town. I’ve seen your storehouse and I’ve seen your silver mine.”

Tanyth saw the look on William’s face go blank for a moment before what Birchwood had said fully registered. “My silver mine?” He paused, staring at the man. “Are you mad? You think we have a silver mine?”

Birchwood shook his head. “Come, come, William. I said, don’t play coy. Lives are at stake here. Young lives.” His left hand rested heavily on the boy’s shoulder.

“It’s a clay quarry, Birchwood. Clay. Like you make bricks from.”

Birchwood shook his head. “I’ve been there. I’ve seen it, William.” His voice wasn’t so pleasant now. “Your men up there, diligently scraping it all up. Putting in barrels. You can’t tell me that you’re all out here grubbing up clay–the same clay you can get from any river bank within ten miles of the city?” He shook his head. “No, William. I’m not that gullible.”

William sat heavily on the grass, his knees up and leaning back on his hands. “You’ve got to be joking, Birchwood. Surely, you can’t be that foolish.” His voice was low but it carried the tone of disbelief clearing through the evening air.

Birchwood’s brow furrowed. “Don’t play that game with me, Mr. Mapleton! Why would anybody come way out here to dig clay! You’re a rich man’s son. All these people here have connections in the city. You expect me to believe that you all came out here to live life close to nature and dig up clay?” He took a deep breath and his countenance returned to the more genial one he rode in with. “Please, William. How can you expect me to believe that?”

William closed his eyes and dropped his head back to stare at the darkening sky. “Because, my fine foppish fool, we’re all the youngest sons and castoffs of the rich and powerful back in the city.” He raised his head and leveled his gaze at the man. “Yes, Mapleton is my father, but I’ve four brother’s who are closer to money than I and you know that to be true as well! You lived in Kleesport long enough to learn that much and as much as you preyed on our people, it must have taught you a thing or two about my father and my family!”

For the first time, Birchwood looked uncertain.

“And we didn’t come out here to dig clay. We came out here to start a new town. A town where we might have some of the opportunities that we’re denied in the city. A place we can call ours and not something cast off or passed down by our parents.” His eyes bored into Birchwood. “The clay is how we raise the cash we need to buy the goods we can’t produce yet. It’s clay. Just clay. It’s a particularly fine clay and someday we’ll have a kiln here perhaps and start some manufacturing with that clay, but by the beard of the All-Father, Birchwood, what we take out of the ground up there is clay.”

“Do you swear on the life of your eldest son, fool?” Birchwood fairly spit the rejoinder. The two men behind him were looking less certain for the first time since they road into town.

“I can only tell you the truth, Birchwood. It’s clay.” He paused. “There’s another small problem with your plan. We don’t keep any cash out here.”

Birchwood frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t keep any cash?”

William sat up and held out his hands to either side. “Do you see any shops? Pubs? Taverns? Any place where having cash would be of any use out here?” He uncoiled from the ground and stood there in front of the horse. “Do you think, perhaps, we’re buyin’ and sellin’ biscuits from each other? That I’m sellin’ the firewood I chop to the highest bidder maybe?”

“Oh, come, come, William. A jest is a jest but I’ve your son here. Are you sure you want to play these games?” Birchwood’s men kept looking back and forth between themselves but Birchwood wasn’t paying attention to them. His attention was focused on the man in front of him.

“Birchwood, I swear to you on the life of my son. We send the wagon in loaded. We sell the clay–and it’s just clay–to the works in Kleesport. We have accountants and factors in town who keep our money, manage our accounts, and pay our bills for us. When the wagon comes back, he’ll have no money–just the goods we’ll need to get through the winter. I could pay you in hundred weights of flour, but I doubt if there’s more than ten silvers cash money here in the village if you were to shake out all the purses and put the money in a pile.” He looked at Birchwood and held out his hands to either side in a gesture of helplessness. “We have no money. We have no need for it out here.”

Birchwood shook his head. “Well, I must say, William. This is a most amusing tale you spin, but I don’t think you realize the gravity. If you have no money, then bad things will happen to you. And to yours. Like this delightful lad here.” He clapped the boy on the shoulder one more time. “The fires you had today are only a sample.” His voice was cold. “I suggest you find some money and find it quickly before somebody you care for gets hurt.”

“You can’t get blood out of a stone, Birchwood.”

“I know that, William.” His genial tone faded. “I get blood out of the people who do not pay. It would behoove you to remember that little fact.” He paused. “I’ll give you a few days to think about it, but I’ll be back, and the next time, you should try to find a better story to tell. One with a little more jingle in it.”

He made a hand signal and his riders turned and rode back to the Pike. Birchwood himself backed his horse slowly away, keeping the boy between Thomas’s arrow and himself.

“My boy, Birchwood! What about my boy?”

Birchwood only smiled and continued to back his mount. Thomas started to follow but Birchwood held the knife to Riley’s neck. “You might consider standing where you are, archer. Arrows make me nervous, and when I get nervous, I get twitchy.” He made a little jump with his face and arm when he said the word twitchy, and the knife at Riley’s throat twitched, too, but didn’t draw blood.

Thomas subsided and released the draw on his bow, pointing the arrow to the ground.

Birchwood smiled and backed his horse to the Pike. When he was out of bow shot, he unceremoniously dumped the boy onto the ground and heeled his horse into a gallop, heading south down the Pike with his two bravos.

Riley scrambled to his feet before his father could reach him, picked up a rock, and threw it after the riders. Boyish rage and frustration were writ large on his face and his aim true, but his power too slight and the stone fell to earth only a few feet away.

William reached the boy at a run and scooped him up in his arms before turning to race back to the safety of the house. Tanyth could see they were both crying and clinging to each other as William passed, heading for home and meeting Amber coming down.

Tanyth closed the door on the reunion, and turned to a wide eyed Megan. “What does it mean, mum?”

Tanyth shook her head. “Our Mr. Birchwood just got a fast introduction to life in our little village of Ravenwood.”

“Yes, but what will he do?”

Tanyth shook her head. “I’m not sure. William had a good idea to keep all your money in town where it can be kept safe and used where it’ll do the most good.” She shook her head. “But I don’t know if Andrew Birchwood believes him.”

They crossed to the hearth and Megan ran a spoon around in the soup hanging over the fire. “Why wouldn’t he believe William, mum? William’s never lied to him.”