Read Snow White and Rose Red Online
Authors: Patricia Wrede
Snow White and Rose Red (20 page)
The Widow and her daughters told their tales first, guessing that it would be easier for John to answer their questions once his own had been answered. Both John and Hugh listened without interrupting, but as soon as the Widow finished John said, “And are you certain Dee and Kelly are the two you saw in the forest?”
“We’re certain,” Rosamund said. She put up her chin and went on with a trace of belligerence, “And you should not question us further till your own tale’s told.”
“Rose, mind thy manners!” the Widow said.
“Well, but I can see that he’d not think to tell us anything if no one reminded him,” Rosamund said unrepentantly. “And our curiosity’s as great as his.”
John laughed despite himself. “I stand corrected. What would you know?”
“Who are you, you and your brother bear?” Rosamund asked promptly.
“I’m called John Rimer, and this bear’s my brother Hugh,” John replied with equal promptness. “What more?”
Rosamund’s eyes flashed angrily. “That’s no answer!”
“If you prefer not to tell us, we’ll not compel you,” Blanche said in a quiet voice. “You have no need to mock at us.”
“She’s right,” Hugh said, startling them all with the deep, rumbling rasp of his voice. “And they’ve the right to know, John.”
John hesitated. “I beg your pardons all,” he said finally. “My intent was not to mock you; ‘twas but habit. I have long been used to avoiding all such questions.”
“Our pardon waits upon your answer,” Rosamund said.
“Hugh and I are the sons of the Queen of Faerie by a mortal lover,” John said with quiet simplicity.
The Widow’s eyebrows rose. “If that be so, how is it that you two have come to such a pass as this? I’d think the Faerie Queen could do somewhat to guard her sons.”
“What she could do, she did; ‘twas precious little,” John said, and his voice was bitter. “There was no remedy for my brother’s transformation. Faerie learning doth not encompass much of mortal magic, and she would not give me leave to search outside her lands, because she said the blame was mine.”
“What?” Hugh’s voice was a muffled roar that made everyone else jump.
“Softly, softly,” John said. “I did not mean she thought the spell was mine. She said only that ‘twas my wanderings that drew it to thee, and would not lift her ban.”
“What ban is that?” Rosamund demanded.
Briefly, John described his most recent return to Faerie and the Queen’s unexpected refusal to let him leave again. “Then when Hugh began to be ... affected, she would not heed me, nor let me go to seek a remedy. She said that ‘twas some carelessness of mine that drew the eyes of mortal wizards to Faerie, and to Hugh, and she forbade me once again to leave her lands.”
“And yet you left?” Blanche said. Her eyes were wide with wonder and sympathy.
John shrugged. “What choice had I? There was no help for Hugh in Faerie.”
Rosamund’s head moved unconsciously in the smallest of approving nods, but the Widow Arden frowned. “So you’re here in defiance of your mother and your Queen. And in another month the border of Faerie will be open and unlocked.”
“Do not trouble yourself with thinking that she’ll look for me or torment you for standing as my friends,” John said. “ ‘Tis not her way. Faerie’s done with both of us, unless I try to return.”
Blanche, who had been studying John with care throughout his narrative, leaned forward. “How is it that you have such a taste for mortal lands, and your brother has it not? Or have I mistaken the matter entirely?”
“ ‘Twas a difference in our raising,” John said. “I’ve told you that our father was a mortal man, and that’s the root of it. He was a poet from the north, near Ercildoune; his name was Thomas Learmont, sometimes called the Rhymer. He was up in the hills, alone, when he saw our mother riding by and called to her. She tricked a promise from him: seven years of service to her. Though I doubt that there was great need for trickery on either side of that bargain; he was as eager to go as she to have him. So she brought him back to Faerie, and to keep him true she laid it on him not to speak until his time of service was done.
“When the seven years were up, the Queen had one son by Thomas and was carrying another. She did not want him to leave, I’m told, but the laws of Faerie have a certain ... implacability about them.” John glanced at Hugh, then looked away. “Seven years he’d promised, and seven years she’d had, and she could not hold him longer. Nor could he stay, though he’d leave his sons behind.
“Our father could not be content with that decree. The child in the Queen’s womb he could not touch, but me he stole away the night he left.”
“You?” Rosamund said.
“Aye, I’m the elder by two years,” John replied, and his lips twisted in a wry smile. “For all the good it’s been to me.”
He shook himself, and continued, “The Queen gave chase as soon as she discovered what her lover had done, but she could not ride as headlong as she wished for fear of harming the child within her. So when she came up with my father at last, she was too late to take me back. For Father’d learned more than a little in his time in Faerie; he’d gone straight to a priest and had me baptized.”
“I remember,” Rosamund said. “When you gave me the rose, you said that you were baptized Thomas.”
“ ‘Twas true,” John said. “And after that, the Faerie Queen could not touch me ’gainst my father’s will. ‘Tis why I’m now called John; my mother took a dislike to the name my father gave me, and will not suffer it to be used in Faerie.”
“I am much amazed, if that was all she did,” the Widow commented.
“Oh, she was greatly angered, of course, yet Faerie folk admire such cleverness, even when ‘tis they that lose by it. So the Queen gave her lover one last gift before she returned to her own land. She said that, since in Faerie she’d silenced his tongue to keep him true, his tongue would speak the truth and truth alone now that ’twas no more silent. Then she left.”
“So you were raised a mortal?” the Widow said.
“In the main,” John replied. “Yet Faerie kept close watch on me, and I learned as much from them as from my teachers. Then, too, my father could not lie when I grew old enough to question him about my mother.” He smiled slightly. “I think ‘twas half the reason she bestowed on him his truthful tongue.”
“It seems a most uncomfortable present,” Rosamund said, frowning.
John shrugged. “‘Twas double-edged, as are most Faerie gifts. My father learned to use it well; his prophecies are famous still.”
“How did you come to know your brother?” Blanche asked, nodding at Hugh.
“When I was old enough to understand, my mother came for me,” John said. “Twice each year, at May Eve and Midsummer, she took me to join the Faerie revels. And when I turned fifteen, I chose to stay in Faerie. Yet I never lost my fondness for travel in the mortal world, and that, it seems, has been my bane and Hugh’s together. ”
“Belike you’re wrong to say so,” the Widow said thoughtfully. “If ‘twas Dee and Kelly’s work that changed your brother thus, I do not think ’twas done apurpose.”
“Why not?” Hugh growled.
“My daughters watched the greater part of that spell-casting, yet they heard no mention of thy name. Nor did the wizards speak of bears, nor transformations, nor fay with mortal blood.”
“I fear I do not apprehend your meaning,” John said, frowning.
The Widow looked at him in surprise. “Spells need such clear direction, if they’re to work specific tasks. Know you so little of magic?”
“Of Faerie magic I doubt not I know more than you,” John answered. “But I’ve never learned much of mortal spells. It seems they differ more than I’d supposed.”
“The intention of those wizards doth not matter, but only that we break their spell,” Rosamund said impatiently.
“ ‘Tis not so simple, Rose,” the Widow said, shaking her head.
“Your spells have done much good already,” Hugh said with some anxiety. “And now you know still more.”
“Our chances would be better now, ‘tis true, an this were but a change of shape,” the Widow said reluctantly. “But I think the spell is more than that. I think it’s torn some part of thee away, and little more can I or anyone do for thee unless it be returned.”
“Then we must study how to fetch it back,” John said. The Widow looked at him with a kind of surprised horror, and he smiled. “Nay, Mistress Arden, I’ll ask no more of you. This work’s for me, and Hugh.”
“For you and Hugh?” Rosamund said in an indignant tone. “Would you have us wash our hands of him?”
“You’ve done enough,” John answered. “You’ve given Hugh himself again, which all of Faerie could not do. And you have given me hope, which of late I’ve not had in great quantity. The coming tasks will be a danger I’ve no wish to lead you into.”
“ ‘Twas dangerous to watch the wizards at their work,” Blanche pointed out. “And also to give aid and shelter to a bear. An untried spell’s a danger; so, too, is a walk in Faerie. We’re not afraid of danger.”
“Aye,” Hugh rumbled. “ ‘Tis why I’ll not come again.”
Blanche and Rosamund stared in shock, then broke into a volley of protests. “Girls!” the Widow said sharply, and they subsided.
“What dost thou mean by this, sir bear?” Blanche said more calmly.
“As I said. If my presence here was known, you’d be hanged for witches. I did not realize it till tonight, but now I know, and I’ll not risk it even if you’re willing.”
“What of thine own risk?” Blanche cried. “Tomorrow’s Master Kirton’s hunt!”
Hugh chuckled, and his furred back shook. “Master Kirton is small danger to me now.”
John’s expression, which had been first surprised and then thoughtful, slowly changed to devilish glee. “Small danger, indeed! This hunt will not soon be forgotten, I warrant you!”
Rosamund immediately began trying to pry some further explanation out of the brothers. She was not successful, though her efforts distracted Blanche and the Widow from Hugh’s expressed determination not to return to the cottage. By the evening’s end, they were on familiar terms with John as well as Hugh, and Rosamund had wormed a promise out of the two brothers to come back after the hunt and tell them what had happened.
Once this was settled, the Widow, who had been keeping a careful eye on the dwindling rushlight, pointed out that the hour was late indeed. John and Hugh courteously rose to leave at once. Blanche was only just able to swallow a protest at the bear’s departure by reminding herself that John was, after all, Hugh’s brother, and that they had been separated for three months. She watched with quiet resentment as the bear followed John out the door, then silently chided herself for her unwarranted pique.
Outside, John and Hugh walked a short way down the road and stopped. They waited there, talking in low voices, until the lights from the Widow’s cottage had been out some time. Then John walked back to the Widow’s gate. He picked up a nearby twig and scratched a symbol on the ground, then pulled up a tuft of dried grass and shredded it over the drawing until the marks were completely hidden. He went back to Hugh and nodded. The two brothers, man and bear, turned together and disappeared among the forest shadows.
CHAPTER · THIRTEEN
“Snow White was sorry to see the bear leave, but she held the door open for him as he asked. As the bear went out, he brushed against the latch and tore away some of his fur. Snow White thought for a moment that she saw a gleam of gold underneath, but she could not be sure. The bear ran on into the forest, and was soon out of sight. ”
THE MORNING OF MASTER KIRTON’S BEAR HUNT dawned grey and cool, but the weather did not dampen the enthusiasm of the people who had come to join in the sport. The unusual entertainment drew a large crowd of onlookers in addition to the participants; half the village of Mortlak lined the streets from dawn onward, hoping to see the hunt ride out. Sawyers and shopkeepers, charcoal burners and weavers, wine merchants and watermen, all found some errand or excuse to take them out into the streets. Kitchen maids slipped away while carrying in the wash water, and those whose work kept them indoors found reasons to linger near windows.
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