The Copper Sign (3 page)

Ellen stared at Aelfgiva in astonishment. “But then I am not his…and Osmond is not my…” she stammered, and hardly dared to think where this was all leading. No, that just couldn’t be true!

“Osmond is my father, he raised me, and everything I know and love about being a blacksmith I learned from him.” Ellen stamped the ground with her foot.

“Even if he isn’t your father, you were his one and all from the very first moment.” Aelfgiva looked at Ellen wistfully. “Your head was so tiny in his big, strong hand.” The memory made her smile. Then she sat up straight. “In any case, you can’t go back home. Sir Miles has no doubt already sent his men out to get you. You must leave here as quickly as possible.”

“But I don’t want to go!”

Aelfgiva took her in her arms and rocked her like a little child. “Alas, I will lose you as well,” she murmured, shaking her head. Then she got up and went straight to two large trunks standing one on top of the other in the farthest corner of the room. She started to rummage about in the top one. But she finally found what she was looking for in the one underneath. “Ah, here it is!” Aelfgiva held up a carefully tied bundle and put it on the table. There she loosened the knots and unfolded it. The linen shirt and loose trousers inside were slightly yellow. The tunic of dark-brown wool and the pair of earth-colored hose looked almost new. “He hardly wore these things. I had just finished making them for him when he…” Aelfgiva stopped suddenly.

“Are those Adam’s?”

Aelfgiva nodded. “I knew they would come in handy someday. He was just thirteen at the time.” Aelfgiva turned around quickly.

Ellen suspected she was trying to hide her tears. The year before Ellen was born, many people in Orford had suffered from high fever and diarrhea, and some had died. Almost every family suffered some loss, and even Aelfgiva with all her knowledge of healing herbs had lost her husband and her only child. “Do you know what? I have an idea.” Aelfgiva brought out a pair of scissors. “Haven’t you always said boys have it better?”

Ellen nodded hesitantly.

“So there—you’ll be one now!”

The thought had something appealing about it, but…Ellen looked at the old woman in disbelief. “How can I possibly do that?”

“Well, of course we can’t make a real boy out of you, but if we shorten your hair and dress you in Adam’s clothes, everyone will think you are one.”

That sounded plausible.

Aelfgiva cut off Ellen’s long ponytail and cut her hair back almost as far as her ears. “And as far as color goes…” She thought about it for a moment and then brought out a sharp-smelling dark liquid. She had made it from walnut shells and used it for dyeing cloth. The tincture also turned her hair dark brown, but it stung Ellen’s scalp and left spots on her smock that looked like blood.

“Change your clothes now,” Aelfgiva urged. “Something tells me you don’t have much time to waste.”

Ellen felt strange putting on Adam’s clothing. It seemed as if she were crawling inside someone else’s skin. The things were all a little too big, but that had the advantage that they would still fit her for a long time.

Aelfgiva picked up Ellen’s smock and smiled. “I think I’ve just had a good idea. Tonight I’ll put your clothes down by the swamp. I’ll rip them up and sprinkle blood on them from a bird or a little marten. Let’s see what I can catch. When Sir Miles’s men find the clothing, they’ll think you were eaten by swamp spirits and they’ll stop looking for you.”

Ellen shuddered and turned pale at the thought of all the stories she had heard about those monsters.

Aelfgiva patted her cheeks to reassure her. “Don’t be afraid, everything will work out.” The old woman looked her over. Then she went over to the hearth, took some ashes from one side, and rubbed them on Ellen’s forehead and cheeks. “Now it’s much better. I’ll put a little bit more dirt from outside in your hair, and I’ll bet no one will recognize you. But don’t let anyone see you around the smithy.” She took Ellen by the shoulders, turned her around, and nodded with satisfaction.

“Do you really think he will send someone to get me?”

“The lord chancellor is a man of the church and would certainly never allow any of his men to chase after married women. Sir Miles will do everything he can to see that his master never hears of it.” Aelfgiva looked up and underscored her explanation with a sharp movement of her thumb, running her nail over her throat. “In any case, you must make sure that nobody recognizes you, do you hear?” Aelfgiva put together a few useful things and tied them up in her best piece of cloth. Then pressing the bundle into Ellen’s hand and pushing her toward the door, she added, “And now, it’s best you go. You are not safe here with me.”

Ellen ran through the forest toward the main road, as Aelfgiva had told her to do, and was soon farther away from Orford than she had ever been before. The sun began to set, bathing the forest in a soft, orange glow. Ellen relieved herself behind a large bush and washed her hands, face, and neck in a little brook, taking care only to scoop up clear water. Dark water in the shadows, Aelfgiva had warned her, could be possessed by demons and be very dangerous. She opened the bundle the old woman had given her. Aelfgiva had really thought of everything—there was a piece of goat cheese she had made herself, a little bacon, three onions, an apple, and half a loaf of bread, all tied together in the woolen cloth. Ellen closed her eyes and stuck her nose in the soft material. It smelled of smoke and herbs, like Aelfgiva herself. Ellen swallowed hard. When would she see Aelfgiva again?

Lost in thought, she slowly ate her precious supper. If she was very frugal she would have enough food for two days. After that, everything was in God’s hands. Until now, though, He hadn’t once answered her prayers, and His saints hadn’t shown themselves to be too reliable either. When Leofrun and Aedith had gone to her grandfather’s house in Ipswich last year, she had prayed to Saint Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, imploring him to put better people under his protective wing than these two. But it had done no good, and they came back unscathed. Was God watching over her also? Ellen knelt down and prayed, but it brought her no comfort. She was facing her first night alone in the forest and would have to find some sort of shelter.

When the sun set, the butterflies and bees disappeared as well. Only the gnats remained, and even grew in numbers and persistence. As it got darker, the trees seemed to grow larger, looking somber and strange. The sky filled with dark clouds. Ellen looked around anxiously for a place to hide and finally discovered a protruding ledge nearby where she could take safe shelter. Thieves and outlaws as well as goblins and elves prowled the forests at night and robbed or killed travelers in their sleep. One also had to contend with bears and wild boar.

Ellen felt small and helpless. With tears in her eyes, she rolled up under the ledge, placed her bundle under her head, and listened. Every noise she heard in the dark forest terrified her. The air was heavy and oppressive, with a thunderstorm brewing. A bright bolt of lightning flashed through the dark night, and for a brief moment everything looked as bright as day. Then came a loud roll of thunder. It started to rain and became a bit cooler. The forest floor began to smell of herbs and wet earth. Ellen pressed against the comforting rock wall, closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of the rain until she fell asleep.

In the middle of the night she suddenly heard voices and opened her eyes. It was pitch black. First she only heard a soft whisper; then it sounded like laughter. Lying there motionless, Ellen hardly dared to breathe.

“She’s worthless. Kill her. All my misfortune is her fault,” a voice whispered. It sounded like Leofrun.

“Besides that, she’s so ugly and stupid,” said a second voice.

Ellen was numb with fear.

“We’ll cut her into pieces and feed her to the wild boars. Nobody will miss her.”

“Pull her out of there!” said the first voice.

Ellen lashed out in all directions; her hand banged against the rock and the pain woke her up. All around it was dark and quiet. The only thing she could hear was the call of an owl. “Is anyone there?” she called out in a trembling voice. “Mother? Aedith?” There was no answer, and it took a while before Ellen calmed down enough to realize it was only a bad dream.

As she was walking along the next morning, she met a group of friendly looking people. Their leader, a strong man with a tangled blond beard, was accompanied by two young men, his wife, and three children. Ellen asked politely if she could join them part of the way, and the heavy woman nodded she could. Despite the cool morning, beads of perspiration had already appeared on her round face.

It was only after they had walked several miles together and there had been a number of clear hints that Ellen finally understood. The woman was expecting a child. Ellen blushed with embarrassment that she had been so slow at realizing it.

The men shook with laughter.

“Don’t be embarrassed, young fellow. It’s just that you haven’t had any experience with women,” said the husband, grinning and with a wink of his eye. “That will come by and by, and when she’s as round as
that
it’s far too late to be careful.” He patted Ellen on the shoulder and laughed loudly.

He’d said “young fellow”! Ellen had completely forgotten that she was disguised as a boy.

The men were carpenters on the way to Framlingham, where the local lord was building a new stone castle.

“Do you think they could use him as a helper in the smithy?” asked one of the carpenters.

“Sure, why not? Do you know anything about it?” The carpenter looked at Ellen curiously.

“My father…ah, yes, I’ve worked in a smithy before.”

“What’s your name, anyway?” the carpenter asked.

“Ellen,” she replied without thinking, and at the next moment was shocked at what she had said. She had forgotten again that she was a boy now. She stood there as if rooted to the spot and thought she would sink into the ground. She hadn’t even begun to think about a suitable name!

The carpenter’s wife was walking directly behind her and bumped into her. “Hey, boy, watch out. You can’t just stop like that,” she scolded her angrily.

The carpenter turned around, walked over to Ellen, and stretched out his hand. “Glad to know you, Alan. These are my younger brothers, Oswin and Albert. I’m Curt, and the tubby bird who just scolded you is my dear wife Bertha.” He burst out laughing.

Bertha mumbled some unintelligible oath but then managed to smile.

Ellen felt a weight fall from her shoulders. The carpenter thought she had said “Alan”!

“What do you think, Bertha my dear, shall we take the lad with us?”

Bertha looked Ellen up and down carefully. “I don’t know, maybe he’s a criminal, a robber, or even a killer.”

Her eyes wide with fear, Ellen shook her head vehemently.

“Leave him be, Bertha darling. This boy wouldn’t hurt a fly, believe me, I can see that. If you wish, you can come to Framlingham with us, Alan. I’ll ask the master builder for work for ourselves, and maybe there will be something for you to do as well.

“Thank you, Master Curt,” Ellen answered politely. “And you also, mistress,” she said, nodding to Bertha in hope of appeasing the woman. With a silent prayer, Ellen thanked God that she wouldn’t have to spend another night alone.

Framlingham was teeming with people. Stonemasons, scaffolders, and apprentices scurried about, while women, children, poultry, and pigs all ran around amid the wagons and building sites. Ellen was astonished at the deafening noise made by the hewing of the stones and all the other work.

While Curt went to see the master builder, the others sat down in a meadow and rested a while.

“They said they’d be glad to have good carpenters like us,” Curt called to them as he came back. “My brothers get four pennies a day, I’ll get six, and there’s a hot meal at noon. By the way, the master builder is a friend of Albert of Colchester, and when he heard we had worked for him he showed me a stable on the east side of the building site where we can set up house. It’s just like everywhere else, work from sunrise to sunset, and that every day except for Sundays and holidays. If the master builder is happy with us, we’ll have work for at least three years, and maybe longer.”

Bertha was elated. “Three years? You are the best man any woman could ask for. Come here and let me kiss you!” Beaming with delight, she ran her hand over her round belly.

“Well then, let’s have a kiss,” Curt laughed, pulling his wife over and giving her a long kiss on the lips.

Ellen thought of what she had seen in the cottage, and blushed.

Curt’s brothers noticed her embarrassment and nudged one another with their elbows, grinning.

“Oh yes, Alan,” said Curt, rubbing his hand over his blond beard as if trying to wipe away Bertha’s kiss. “I also spoke with the smith, and you can go to him right away. He wants to see if he can use you.”

“Oh, thank you, Curt!” Ellen was happy she could stop sitting around doing nothing. She jumped up and dashed off.

“You’ll find him by the castle wall, just beyond the archway on the right,” he called after her.

Ellen’s heart sank when she saw the smith, a grumpy-looking man with hands the size of barrelheads. She was sure he’d laugh at the sight of her skinny frame and almost wanted to turn around and run away. But he had caught sight of her already and motioned for her to come over.

“You’re the boy that the carpenter told me about, are you?” His dirty blond hair stuck out from his head, and as he scratched his chin Ellen noticed that the tip of his left middle finger was missing.

“Have you ever worked in a smithy?”

“Yes, master.” She didn’t dare to be more precise.

“Did you work as a striker?”

“No, master, I only held the piece. I’m not yet strong enough to swing the sledgehammer.” Ellen was sure she had ruined any chance for work, being so honest. But the smith just nodded.