Snow White and Rose Red (37 page)

Read Snow White and Rose Red Online

Authors: Patricia Wrede

 
CHAPTER · TWENTY-TWO
 
“Crossing the meadow on their way home, the girls saw the dwarf again. He had emptied his bag of jewels onto a flat stone to gloat over them, and they shone and sparkled in the evening sun. The glittering colors were so beautiful that the girls stopped and stared at them in wonder. ”
 
WHILE DEE AND KELLY WERE PREPARING FOR THEIR flight to Poland and the Widow’s daughters were secretly compounding their herbal ointments, John was waiting for word from Robin. He visited the bear regularly, but he was scrupulous in keeping away from the Widow’s cottage. His message into Faerie had not gone unnoticed, and several times he saw signs of Faerie watchers around his house. This served to confirm the wisdom of his decision to avoid Rosamund and Blanche, though as the days grew into weeks John’s determination wavered more and more.
Fortunately, Robin reappeared before John’s resolution collapsed completely. It was early in September, when the weather was in an uncertain condition—fair and warm one day, damp and cold the next. The chestnut burrs were just beginning to turn from green to golden brown, and the grain stood tall in the fields, waiting for the reapers. John was in the forest with his brother, pondering for the thousandth time what could and should be done before the winter, when Robin popped out from behind a holly bush. His sudden appearance startled a growl from Hugh.
“Is this how thou dost greet thy friends?” Robin said to Hugh with a mock frown. His doublet was a deep green velvet, his hose were silk, and his hair appeared to have been recently cut (though that did not stop it from falling in his eyes). “Methinks that thou must mend thy manners, old bear.”
“Robin,” John said in a warning tone.
“Thou, too?” Robin said, widening his eyes and almost achieving an expression of innocence. “I am wounded.”
“If that be true, ‘tis thy own sharpness that has wounded thee,” John said dryly. “Pardon our bad tempers; waiting sits ill with both of us, and thou hast been a long time in returning with thy news.”
“Not so long as I might have been,” Robin said. He shook his hair out of his eyes and gave John a sly grin. “Shall I go away again, and let thee practice patience more?”
“Do so,” John invited him cordially, “and by thy actions I’ll know thy news was of but little moment.”
“Nay, thou hast me there,” Robin said cheerfully. “Wherefore I’ll tell my tale.” He flung himself down on the ground, completely careless of his fine clothes and grinned up at John through a fringe of black hair.
“Say,” the bear rumbled. Robin glanced at him in surprise, which changed quickly to a deep, thoughtful consideration. “Well?” Hugh said after a moment.
“I do beg thy pardon,” Robin said. “But ‘tis a great thing indeed to hear a bear speak, no matter what one has been told. Say something else.”
“Robin!” John said, exasperated. “Thou‘dst try the patience of whole legions of saints!”
“I doubt it,” Robin answered. “Human saints have naught to do with Faerie.”
“Robin!” Hugh and John said together.
“Oh, very well, if your forbearance has reached its end,” Robin said with an exaggerated sigh. “But I had hoped you would be understanding; I’ve been to court, where they’ve but little fondness for my merry ways. ‘Tis hard indeed always to behave one’s best.”
“Thou must speak of theory, for I see no sign of ‘best behavior’ in thy practice,” John said. “Thy tale, Robin, thy tale! What’s toward in Faerie?”
“Much that puzzles me,” Robin said, abandoning his teasing at last. “Bochad-Bec’s withdrawn into his oaks, and has not been beyond them since Furgen’s death. ‘Tis not surprising, since the two were friends; but that friends they were, or had ever been, surprises many.”
“An oakman and a water fay?” John said. “Art sure of this?”
“Aye, and a dislike of mortals was the greatest bond between them, though I doubt ‘twas widely known,” Robin replied, shaking hair out of his eyes again.
“Hatred,” the bear growled, shaking his head emphatically.
Robin looked at him with wide eyes, as if expecting him to continue. Hugh looked at John instead, who said, “Hugh finds speech difficult. I think he means that thy description was not strong enough; ‘twas hatred of mortals that bound Bochad-Bec and Furgen, not mere dislike.” The bear nodded, and John went on,
“Yet even so, why would they meddle with Dee’s spells, as seemingly they have?”
Robin shrugged, and his hair fell back into its accustomed position. “I know not, but I can guess.” He looked at the bear. “They liked thee not, but they liked mortals less. They’d burn to think a mortal wizard had imprisoned Faerie power.”
“‘Tis possible,” John said doubtfully.
“‘Tis but a guess,” Robin said, sounding faintly hurt. “But knowing Madini’s pride—”
“Madini?” Hugh said sharply, and was immediately taken with the fit of coughing that struck whenever he forced his bear’s throat to do too much.
John glanced at his brother, his expression troubled. When the coughing lessened, he turned back to Robin and said, “Who’s this Madini?”
“One of the Queen’s ladies,” Robin said. His eyes sparkled. “Have I not mentioned her before?”
“Not of late,” John said, “though I think thou saidest something of her when last I was in Faerie. What’s Madini to do with this?”
“Why, she was friend to Furgen too, and for reasons like to Bochad-Bec’s. ‘Twas not a firm foundation for a friendship; her response to Furgen’s death looked more like rage than grief.”
“What meaning dost thou find in that?” John asked.
Robin shrugged. “Nothing sure. But if ‘twas dislike of mortals bound Bochad-Bec and Furgen, why not Madini also? This meddling with the wizards smells more of her than them.”
“No,” Hugh said, and shook himself all over in incredulous negation. “She serves the Queen.”
“That makes no matter,” Robin said cynically. “There’s little that’s beyond those lasses, if they think ‘twill benefit Faerie. And ’tis not always simple to say what is a benefit or no.”
“Thinkest thou the Queen’s entangled in this?” John asked with visible reluctance.
“Because her lady is? I greatly doubt it. If, of course, her lady is embroiled as I suspect; when all is said, ‘tis but a guess.”
“Then thou hast no certain knowledge that Madini’s part of this,” John said, frowning.
“I’ve said so twice already in plain language,” Robin answered in tones of irritation. “Wouldst thou grasp my meaning better if I spoke in riddles?”
“I crave thy pardon, Robin,” John said.
“And well thou shouldst,” Robin said severely, holding his unruly hair back with his right hand while he rested his chin on his left. The posture robbed his tone of most of its intended effect.
“This is the sum of thy tale, then,” John said, “that Furgen, whom I saw in the crystal, may have partnered Bochad-Bec in some mischief aimed at mortals, whose purpose we cannot now know since one of them is gone and the other dead, and that Madini too may have had some part in it.”
“‘Tis true enough, though ’tis a cold and stingy summary of all my work,” Robin complained.
John sighed. “I’d hoped for better news, or more of it at least. Still, I owe thee a favor, Robin; ‘twas kind of thee to help.”
“Thou talkest as if my part in this were done,” Robin said disapprovingly.
“And so should it be,” John said. “Thou‘st done enough.”
Hugh nodded his agreement, and Robin gave them both a disapproving frown. “Nay, I’ve not done with my inquiries yet. Will you, nil you, you shall have my help; said I not that curiosity was my besetting fault?”
“No,” John answered. “‘Twas I that said it, and ’twas truer than I knew. Thou‘rt near as foolish as the Widow’s daughters.”
“That’s as may be,” Robin said, “but ‘tis better than being foolish over them.”
This brought indignant responses from both John and Hugh, and the discussion degenerated rapidly from this point. Robin left soon after. In his heart John did not expect to see him for another month or two, or perhaps even longer, for Robin’s grasp of mortal time was not always a strong one. John was therefore thoroughly surprised when the irrepressible youth turned up less than two weeks later with further news. He had established by some means of his own (into which John preferred not to inquire too closely) that Madini had crossed the Faerie border into the mortal world at least twice since Furgen’s death, and that her errands involved the wizards, Dee and Kelly. When pressed, Robin was forced to admit that he had been unable to determine exactly what those errands had involved; he was clearly much disgruntled by this failure.
 
Hugh and John talked the matter over for a long time after Robin left. Madini was a power in Faerie; if she were part of the disasters of the past year, they had to know what she was doing. How to discover it was another matter. Hugh favored waiting on Robin’s next report, though he had little faith in Robin’s ability to discover any more. John, who had long ago used up his entire supply of patience, insisted that the only possible course was for him to follow Madini and find out for himself what her purpose was.
In the end, John won the argument. This left him with the problem of finding Madini and determining when her next foray into the mortal world would be, so that he could follow her. None of the spells known to him or Hugh would do; they depended on the atmosphere of Faerie, and did not have the strength to either trace Madini through the mortal world or to penetrate the border and locate her within Faerie.
It was the bear who found the solution. John had told him of the scrying spell he had sensed nearly a year before, on the night that Rosamund and Blanche had been forced to spend in Faerie, and both brothers now knew that it had been the Widow who had cast it. Hugh suggested asking for her help once more; with John’s knowledge of Faerie, the spell could be adapted to be indetectable.
John made a few token objections, but he did not resist for long. He was too anxious for action, and besides, he missed the company of Rosamund and her family. He was confident of his ability to elude at least once whatever Faerie watchers were observing him, and once was all that should be necessary. He let Hugh convince him, and went home to make his preparations. These took nearly two days, so it was early on the morning of Saturday, September twenty-first, the day of John Dee and Ned Kelly’s secretly planned flight to Poland, when John finally made his way to the Widow Arden’s cottage.
He was fortunate enough to find the Widow and both her daughters in. They gave him a warm welcome, once the Widow had determined that he was not carelessly exposing her daughters to the dangerous interest of Faerie. She even agreed to his request for help, but only if John’s suggested changes in the spell were certain to keep Madini from noticing it.
“And not,” said Rosamund, “until we’ve heard the story of these past two months.”
John was more than willing to talk, but Rosamund was the only one of his listeners who gave him her full attention. The Widow moved about the room preparing the ingredients for her scrying spell and listening with only half an ear, while Blanche’s mind was occupied in trying to think of some innocuous way to mention the small jar of ointment she and Rosamund had made for Hugh. Still, John did not appear to notice any deficiency in his audience.

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