Chapter 42: The Riddle

Goldrun did not appear the next night, or the night after that. For almost a week, Ruford waited for her, leaving the abbey as the bells sounded the call to vespers to return, heartsick and despairing, when they rang for matins in the morning. During the day, he languished in his room, eating only when his doting servant insisted he had to and, when Wudrug urged him to say what troubled him, refusing to speak.

“If you will not tell me, my lord,” Wudrug pleaded, “then tell the abbot, who has offered time after time to take your confession.”

“I have nothing to confess!” Ruford sat up, threw back his covers, and took the cup of hot broth Wudrug was holding out to him. Revived as much by his indignation as by the savory blend of chicken, vegetables, and herbs, he got dressed, pulled on his cloak, and left for another night’s vigil.

That night, Ruford’s resolve was rewarded.

He was sitting on his usual rock staring into the darkness, trying to make her appear by the force of his will, when—just as the church bells sounded the call to the midnight prayers—she did.

“Goldrun, beloved.” He jumped up, meaning to clasp her in his arms before she disappeared.

She stepped back and put a finger to her lips, then turned to hurry along the path that led to the pool. Ruford rushed after her, determined not to lose her again. She kept ahead of him, just out of reach, until, at the water’s edge, she stopped. As she turned toward him, he threw his arms around her.

“Where have you been?” he cried. “Why didn’t you come before this? I thought you might never come back! I thought—”

She kissed him softly on his lips.

The world around Ruford vanished, leaving him aware of nothing except her body pressing against his. Then, too soon, she slipped out of his grasp and murmured, “I could not come any sooner. Sit with me, here where we are safe for the moment, and I will explain everything.”

He did as he was told, taking his place next to her on the bank. The night air was crisp and motionless. As Ruford gazed at the pool, waiting for her to speak, there seemed to be two moons, one hanging in the sky overhead and the other floating on the still surface of the water.

She sighed, drew a breath, and said, in a soft whisper that made his skin tingle, “My stepmother was not yet fully awake when I returned home, but still she became suspicious and set two of the deluded servants to stand guard over me at night.”

“No!” Ruford burst out, aghast. “I will save you! Show me the way to your manor! I will strike her down!”

“No! You cannot.” Goldrun shook her head and put a hand on his arm. “The manor is under a spell that keeps others from seeing it, and were you to set foot across its invisible threshold, she would cause it to vanish forever—and me along with it.”

“But there must be a way!” Ruford protested.

“There is! That is what I have come to tell you!”

Even though they were alone, she lowered her voice still further. “For all this long week, I have behaved as though I were completely under her spell. Finally, yesterday, she relaxed her vigilance and ordered the servants who had been watching me back to other duties, so last night I slipped out of my room, stole through the dark hallway, and crept into my stepmother’s chamber, determined to search through her chest of spells, charms, and enchantments and find the one that keeps me and my beloved servants captive.”

Ruford held his breath.

“The chest lid creaked as I opened it. I froze in fear. Her breathing did not change, so, with trembling hands, I searched through evil amulets and scrolls inscribed with wicked enchantments, only to find that the spell I needed was not there. She stirred. I froze again. She shifted in her sleep, perhaps disturbed by some dark dream. Her hand, which had been tucked under her pillow, slipped out, revealing the end of a roll of parchment. I crept to her bedside and eased it out. Having set my small candle on the floor where the light would not shine on her, I unrolled the parchment and saw it was the incantation I was seeking. Not daring to take it with me, I read it three times over, committing it to memory. As I slipped it back under her pillow, she stirred again, but still did not wake. Thanking God for His protection, I tiptoed out of the room and silently shut the door behind me.”

Barely able to contain himself, Ruford gasped, “And then?”

“All day today I acted as though I was still under her spell, calling her ‘dear Mother’ and agreeing with everything she said, while, within my breast, my heart throbbed with hope that with your help, my beloved, I would finally be able to break the spell that binds me.”

“Tell me what it said and what I must do, my beloved.” Ruford pressed Goldrun’s hand to his heart as he spoke.

“There were two parts to what I read. The first, the spell itself, I will not repeat for fear of its evil power; the counterspell, however, ran thus—

“For she who is enchanted by this spell

She shall cover her nakedness

With a gown sewn from cloth

That no woman ever spun or wove

And a cloak of wool from sheep never shorn

And that she shall hold a dark talisman

Turned bright by the hands of one

Who never touched it

And on a night of the full moon,

She will speak the Savior’s name

Calling on Him to break this spell.

Only then will she be freed.”

As Goldrun spoke the last line, her voice faltered. Looking into Ruford’s eyes, she murmured, “I do not understand its meaning, only that without that gown, cloak, and talisman the spell will not be broken, and I will never be free from my stepmother’s wicked enchantment.”

Drawing her hand out of Ruford’s grasp, she pointed to the moon. It was just past full. Without speaking, they both knew that there were less than four weeks for Ruford to find those three seemingly impossible objects in time for Goldrun to break free of her enchantment.

“I will not fail you!” Ruford vowed with vehemence and passion. “I will solve the riddle! I will! And I will bring those things to you by the night of the next full moon!”