Siebold - Lee Savino Page 0,3

others would fear the mysteries, and condemn us.

“No of course not. We simply do our best with the bounty the earth provides. Only a fool would say otherwise.” She bellowed the last part and glared at a man who was slinking past my tent, his face averted as if he did not want to greet us.

“Shame on you, Llywellyn,” she scolded the man. He only scuttled away faster and she shook her head at his retreating back. “I was the first who held him at his birth. What a fool Father Gerald is.”

“Fools are harmless, unless they bend the ear of a crowd, and use fear to stoke favor.” I bent to rearrange my herb bundles. “Has Father Gerald been speaking against me?”

“He mistrusts any woman who does work beyond his understanding. But,” she ducked her head as if examining a bunch of dried camomile. “Father Gerald is not who I’m worried about. Have you noticed the soldiers?”

“I have.” I’d seen a group of them lurking on the edge of the market, heavily armed and rough looking.

“Who are they?” I asked Mistress Donna.

“Offa’s men.”

I schooled my features, though I knew that name.

“He wants to rule this valley. Set himself up as lord of all you can see.” She flapped a hand but the worry in her tone belied her flippant act. “He’s attempting to conscript men from each village to join his army.”

“For what purpose?”

“To enforce his tax.”

“I see,” I let my cool tone give my opinion of this.

“Mmmm,” Mistress Donna shook her head slightly. “Careful, Mistress Meadhan. In these dark times, a woman living alone so far from the village might not be safe.”

“I will be careful,” I promised. “You be sure to do the same.”

“Oh, have no fear for me. I have many sons,” she raised a hand and waved, and a strapping young man loped towards us. The dimpled grin stretching his red cheeks was his main resemblance to the midwife. “Alwyn,” she greeted him.

“Mother,” the young man gave her a kiss. “Mistress Meadhan.” He turned his grin on me, and despite my disinterest in dallying with any men in this village, my stomach fluttered.

“Take these to my hearth and lay them out. Gently, now,” Mistress Donna ordered, handing her son the herbs. A fond look stretched over her face as she watched Alwyn stride off. “That one gives me so much trouble,” Mistress Donna said with satisfaction. “I expect he’ll be the next to give me grandbabies.” She turned back to me, and her smile turned sly. “Now you, Mistress Meadhan, would make a fine mother. I don’t suppose you are in the market for a husband?”

I choked back a laugh at her forthright comment. “Not today. Although I hadn’t realized they sold husbands at this market. I suppose it’d be a convenient way to acquire one. Like buying a goat.”

“Not quite like a goat,” Mistress Donna glanced back at her son and then swept her gaze over me, as if sizing me up for a wedding gown. “You just let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will,” I promised, though inwardly I shuddered. I had no interest in spending my life shackled to a man, even one as handsome and genial as Mistress Donna’s son seemed to be.

I did keep an eye on the rough-looking men Mistress Donna had warned me about. Offa’s men. He offered protection, but if the villages would not pay him, his punishment was cruel. Offa the Bloody, they called him. He was a bullying, bragging warrior.

And his men were the same. As the sun rose high, they swaggered through the market, grabbing goods and offering little coin, and refusing to haggle. I was lucky they stayed away from my stall, though a few eyed my brown skin with curious disdain. I kept my head down and served my few customers, ignoring Father Gerald whenever he came swaggering past my stall again.

Late afternoon, my skin prickled, and I turned under the pretense of looking for some herbs in my basket. A few stalls away, Offa’s men had gathered around Father Gerald. The fat priest was glancing my way and pointing. At me.

“That’s the one,” he said clearly, catching my eye.

No. This was how it began. Suddenly I was a child again, watching a priest point at my mother. “Witch,” he cried, and the rough men of the village came and took her and--

No. I shut my eyes a moment. My hands were fisted at my sides. This was how it