The Wordsmith

CHAPTER 15

LETTA could see Finn and Marlo waiting for her as she approached the bridge. She breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Come,’ Finn said, making for the gate.

‘What should I say to the gavvers?’ Letta asked with one eye on the two hulks guarding the gate.

‘They won’t give you any trouble,’ he said and marched on ahead of her.

Letta had no choice but to follow him. Finn and Marlo hurried through, eyes down. Letta followed them. The gavvers looked away.

‘Some of them are easier to pay off than others,’ Marlo said, with a smile, and Letta found herself nodding as if such things happened every day.

She looked around. In front of her the forest opened its gaping mouth. Silence reigned. There was no bird song. No sound at all, except for the slight ruffle of the wind as it passed through the trees. To Letta, it sounded as though the forest was breathing, quietly, steadily.

‘We go through here,’ Finn said. ‘Keep your eyes open for the ink.’

Finn disappeared into the gloomy passageway that lay open ahead of him.

Within seconds, the trees closed in about her and made it feel like it was dusk again. Her eyes raked the ground looking for the tell-tale red splashes.

‘There!’ Finn’s voice sounded unnaturally loud. He was hunkered down and Letta could feel his excitement. She went closer and saw it for herself. The deep red of the beetroot ink lay on a flat leaf of butterbur. She tore the leaf off and pressed it to her face. There was no mistake. Beetroot. Marlo clutched her hand.

‘We’re going to find him,’ he said.

‘We have to hurry,’ Finn said, but he patted Letta gently on the shoulder before turning and heading off through the trees. An hour later, they were still walking, chasing every drop of beetroot ink. Letta could feel the musty dampness of the forest soaking into her bones. Her legs ached; the ground was heavy with fallen leaves and treacherous with tree stumps and sudden holes. Thorn bushes arched out of the undergrowth, their long necks clawing at her skin. Every fifty strides or so, the forest threw up other paths branching right and left. Each time they had to stop and wait while Finn searched for the red ink that would show them the way. Letta ploughed on, slightly comforted by the sound of Marlo trudging behind her. Every few minutes she looked up to catch glimpses of the sky through the dense canopy, an intricate cloth of blue and grey furrowed with twisted bands of cloud. Then, she had to go back to looking at her feet trying not to fall over, trying not to twist or break an ankle.

There was a strange atmosphere in the woods. A hushed kind of waiting clung to everything. Nobody willingly ventured in here. When the last earthquake had taken place, wild animals hitherto held in captivity broke free and established new territories for themselves under cover of the dense forests. Tigers, lions and snakes had all been spotted here. During one particularly cold winter, some of the animals had ventured out and encroached on the town looking for food. Letta had listened to the terrifying stories people had told over the years. Never, in her most vivid nightmares, could she have imagined herself in here. She concentrated on her feet again. More than once, she looked up only to find herself walking through a spider’s web, the sticky silk clinging to her face and hair. Images plagued her as she walked. Benjamin lying on the open ground all night in the driving rain. His hands bleeding. Animals stalking him.

She tried to push them away and imagine seeing him again, taking him home. With a sickening lurch she realised she could never take him home. Where would they live? Maybe the Desecrators would give them shelter? She felt something shift inside her, a dropping feeling as though she had jumped from a cliff and down below her was nothing but darkness, uncertainty and fear. What future did they have? She had no idea.

They had stopped again. Finn went off to investigate the new pathways while somewhere in the distance an animal roared. A wolf? A bear? She looked about her, wondering again what was out there, what lurked in the dense mess of trees and rocks.

‘This way.’ Finn nodded to his right and they were walking again. Hours passed. The sky was streaked with mauve, the sun had disappeared. Would they find him before nightfall? A few minutes later, Finn called a halt and they sat on a fallen tree to eat their meagre rations. From his bag, Marlo took bread and a hard, grey-looking cheese along with an apple for each of them. Letta handed round water and they sat in silence, glad of the respite. As soon as the food was eaten, Finn was on his feet again.

‘What time is it, do you think?’ Letta asked.

‘Evening,’ Finn said and started to walk again.

Half an hour later, he stopped.

‘What is it?’ Letta said.

‘Don’t you smell it?’ Finn sniffed the air loudly.

‘Smoke,’ Letta said. ‘Could it be smoke?’

Marlo shook his head. ‘Out here?’

‘This way,’ Finn said hurrying in the direction of the sharp, acrid smell.

A few minutes later he held up his hand and gestured to them to be quiet. Letta sniffed the air, turning her head to where the wind carried the smell at its strongest. Wood smoke.

Finn hurried them on, moving stealthily. Letta followed him, trying not to make any extra noise. She could hear it now. The crackling of a fire. Finn waved them in behind an enormous oak. Letta leant against the great tree and looked to where Finn was pointing. Letta stretched her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. A ring of fire. Someone had built a circle of fire in the middle of the forest.

‘There’s someone in there,’ Marlo said, raising his voice to be heard over the crackling of the flames.

Finn moved forward as far as the next tree. Letta and Marlo followed him. There was someone there, moving about. A small figure dressed in black.

Finn beckoned and they moved again. This time they could see her clearly. A small woman in dark clothes. Long hair streamed down her back, giving her the appearance of a girl, until the light from the fire caught her face and then Letta could see the deep lines on her tanned skin and the splashes of grey in her hair. The woman was pouring water from a rusty can along the line of the fire. In the middle of the circle was a bundle of rags.

Finn signalled to Letta and Marlo to stay while he stepped forward. Letta watched him as he approached the circle of flame.

‘No harm!’ she heard him shout.

The woman didn’t answer.

‘No harm!’ Finn said again. ‘Can you help us?’

‘Who you?’

The woman’s voice was rusty, the words struggling out of her throat as though they were causing her pain.

‘Outcasts,’ Finn said. ‘Looking for a friend who was banished.’

‘And how is it I am knowing that what you say is the truth?’

The woman bent down and picked up a stout wooden branch, the top of which was swathed in cloth. She thrust the branch into the flames and it lit at once. She said nothing but Letta could see that this was now a weapon.

‘It is the truth,’ Finn said. ‘We are not gavvers. We are here to find our friend.’

‘How many you be?’ The woman lifted the torch lighting Finn’s face but her eyes scanned the environment.

‘There are three of us,’ Finn said.

Marlo took Letta’s hand and they stepped out into the light. Letta could feel the heat coming from the flames and stroking her face.

The woman looked at her. ‘Who you looking for?’ she said.

‘My master,’ Letta answered. ‘Benjamin Lazlo. We know they dumped him near here.’

There was a long silence. The woman never took her eyes from them. No-one moved.

Then the woman picked up her watering can and doused the flames in front of them.

‘Enter!’ she said.

Letta followed Finn into the circle.

‘Over there,’ the woman said, pointing at the bundle of rags.

For a second, Letta didn’t understand. She turned her head slowly to the bundle at the heart of the circle. The bundle moved.

‘Benjamin?’ Letta crossed the distance between them in three strides and threw herself to the ground beside him.

His face was drawn and grey, half covered in a scraggy beard. His hair clung to his head, damp and matted. His eyes were closed. She gripped his hand. He moaned, a deep guttural sound that pierced her heart. Instantly, the old woman was beside him. Letta watched as she lifted his head and pressed a small flask to his lips.

‘Hush now, hush my friend,’ she crooned. ‘All is well.’

Benjamin’s face relaxed. The old woman put his head down on the hard ground.

‘What do they call him?’ she said, without looking at Letta.

‘Benjamin,’ Letta said, stroking the skin of his hand, trying not to look at the bloody mess that was his fingers.

‘And you?’

‘Letta,’ she answered.

‘I be Edgeware,’ the old woman said. ‘Now, we need move him. The fire keeps away wolf and his friends but not for long. They came last night for look. The fire jittered them so they not stay around too long, but they be back. Their hunger will be stronger than their jittering.’

‘We will carry him.’ Finn had suddenly appeared beside them. ‘Where do you live?’

The old woman hesitated.

‘You don’t know whether to trust us or not,’ Marlo said.

‘I want no dealings with Noa’s kind,’ Edgeware said. ‘I rather live here with the beasts. At least they be what they seem to be.’

Marlo nodded.

‘I have heard of you. They call you The Black Woman of the Woods. I just didn’t believe you existed.’ He smiled. ‘We have met people you rescued.’

‘They save selves,’ Edgeware said. ‘I just give them helping hand. Like this one.’ She nodded towards Benjamin.

‘I couldn’t move him so I keep vigil with him. I thinking he would die here. Now, maybe no. I be taking you to my dwellin’. Follow me.’

Without a word, Marlo and Finn leant down and picked the old man up. Letta kept a firm grip on his hand. He muttered something and then went quiet.

Stepping out of the fire circle, Letta felt the cold again. It had grown dark and the air was now frigid. She couldn’t imagine anyone living in this place. How did Edgeware survive? Where did she get food and water? She glanced at Benjamin. She had thought she would never see that face again.

He had been in her life for as long as she could remember. A steady, gentle presence. Always there, never faltering. It had taken this to make her realise that she loved him. He had been mother and father to her, friend and mentor. In the first days, after her parents left, he had distracted her, taking her on long walks, talking to her about his craft. Later, when they didn’t come back, he had started to train her as his apprentice, directing her, giving her a purpose. She’d always thought of him as a stopgap, someone who would take care of her till the people she loved came back. Now she realised he was the person she loved, and he was the person who loved her, and she didn’t want to lose him. She bit her lip. She wouldn’t lose him. Somehow, they would come through this.

The forest thinned out as they walked until they came to a clearing. They followed the strange woman across an open field. In the half-light, Letta could see that the ground was rutted and covered in a carpet of dense white flowers, making it look as if a heavy mist had fallen on the starved scutch grass.

Before them lay the remains of a village, clusters of deserted houses crouched behind waist-high weeds, brambles and tattered shrubs, with their eyes blinded and their little doors kicked in. Letta had never seen a place as lonely.

Edgeware led them on till they came to a cottage set away from the others. It was a sturdy little house, with a reinforced wooden door and small windows. Around the perimeter was a dry-stone wall and Letta could see torches set in the stone at regular intervals. They followed her through a gate in the wall and up the winding path to the door. There they stopped.

Edgeware lifted the heavy beams that guarded the door, kicked it open and went through. Then she beckoned them in. The men had to bend their heads to go through. Letta followed, glad to be in out of the cold. Inside was a small room, neat and organised. There was a makeshift bed in the corner and there Edgeware told the men to leave Benjamin.

As soon as he was settled, Letta knelt on the floor beside him.

‘We need bandage for fingers,’ Edgeware said.

Letta could only nod. Her throat felt tight and constricted and she felt tears prick her eyes.

Edgeware slipped away.

Letta stroked Benjamin’s hand. ‘You’re going to be all right, master,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘You have survived worse things than this.’

Edgeware came back with a basin and old rags. She took a piece of cloth and soaked it in the water. Then, very gently, she started to remove the black clots that clung to the nail bed. Benjamin groaned.

‘Can you take over here, bairn?’ Edgeware said. ‘I need to get him potion for the pain.’

Letta nodded. She took the cloth and very tentatively started to clean away the dried blood. In her heart a fire of pure rage was burning bright, but she ignored it, focusing on the work in hand. A few minutes later, Edgeware was back with a herbal drink. She pressed the cup to Benjamin’s lips. He opened his eyes for a second.

‘Just drink,’ Edgeware said.

As soon as he had swallowed the liquid, he relapsed into his previous comatose state.

‘He be right weak.’ Edgeware said. ‘Right weak.’

‘Can you make him better?’ Letta said, stopping in her work to look straight into the other woman’s eyes.

Edgeware shook her head. ‘I can nay make people better or worse,’ she said. ‘They do that their own selves. He be an old man. He be badly treated by ignorant people that can nay see themselves for the fools they be.’

‘Why would they do this?’ Letta asked. ‘Why?’

The old woman shook her head. ‘Who knows?’ she said. ‘Maybe he tell us when he be able to.’

Time passed slowly after that. They cleaned his hands and Edgeware put a salve on the raw flesh.

‘What’s in that?’ Letta asked looking at the thick cream clinging to the open wounds.

‘Oak bark, lobelia, comfrey, marshmallow root, mullein leaf, skullcap, black walnut, aloe and calendula in a base of beeswax.’ The old woman recited the list of herbs like a mantra.

Letta had never heard of most of them.

‘Oak bark be natural antiseptic. Mullein leaves ease pain. I still have small store of beeswax since before the wild bees became extinct.’

‘You are a healer,’ Letta said.

Edgeware smiled. ‘If you like,’ she said. ‘Now let him sleep. Sleep be the greatest healer of all.’

Edgeware moved away, but Letta stayed there holding the old man’s hand. In the background, she could hear the gentle hum of conversation between Finn and Edgeware and she could smell garlic cooking but she didn’t move. She remembered a night long ago, when she was about nine or ten. She had woken from her sleep with a fever. She had called out for Benjamin and he had sat there all night with her because she was afraid to go to sleep.

She looked at his worn old face and her heart filled with love for him. He had been through so much. Was it all to end here in this cabin deep in the forest? As if in answer to her question, the old man opened his eyes.

‘Letta!’ he said. ‘Letta!’