The Sevenfold Spell (7 page)

Although the fairies promised me love and marriage, they must have been resentful of being banished from my presence, because they certainly didn’t make things easy on me. Had I been a princess, Willard would have undoubtedly appeared at my bedside, well-dressed, clean and with his voice raised in song as he wakened me with a kiss. When I finally saw him again he was travel-worn, smelling of mules and he arrived to an argument with his father.

When I told Mother I was going to fetch Willard, she thought me insane.

“You can have any man,” she said. “Love and marriage, the fairies promised. You could have a duke! And you still want
him?
”

“If it’s marriage to any other, it would be marriage without love,” I said. “As you said, they promised me love and marriage.”

“Talia, listen. I know that, sometimes, the passage of time can make you nostalgic. You never loved Willard when he was here—why on earth do you think you’d love him now?”

“You’re wrong, Mother. I’ve never forgotten Willard.”

“What are you going to do? He’s a monk. He’s taken a vow of chastity!”

“Well, I’ll have to purchase his chastity, I suppose.”

***

The trip to the monastery took several weeks over unpleasant roads. Even my new coach got uncomfortable after a solid week. I traveled with a king’s warrant, which got me preferential treatment wherever I went. It made for comparatively pleasant travel, but that was not the use for which I intended it.

That precious decree gained me access to the abbot, as I knew it would.

“Lady Sixfold, I’m told you come from the king?”

“Yes. This warrant entitles me to a boon from the king. I am here to collect.”

He gaped at me. “You wish to collect a king’s warrant from me?”

“Yes.”

“What could you possibly want from me?”

“Willard Farmer.”

He looked at me blankly for a moment. “Brother Will?”

“Yes. When we were young, he promised himself to me.”

He frowned at me. “A while back, there was some old crone here asking for Brother Will. Some nonsense about waking up a sleeping woman.”

“That
crone
was my mother.”

“Am I to believe that
you
were this…this sleeping beauty?”

“I’m not to blame for how the troubadours choose to tell the story.” I brandished the warrant. “Are you going to honor this or not?”

“I’m not bound to obey any king. But in any event, Brother Will is not here.”

I blinked at him. “Where is he?”

“I dismissed him. Not two weeks ago.”

“Dismissed him? How do you dismiss a monk?”

The abbot leaned back in his chair and frowned at me disapprovingly. “That was the problem,” he said. “He declined to take his vows. He was a hard worker and I grieved to lose him, but at his age, it was truly his final chance.” He glared at me. “I always suspected that some young woman had ruined him for a life of chastity. And now I must presume it was you.”

I ignored the jibe, as I usually did. “Upon what day was this?”

He sighed and opened his journal. “Eight…no, nine days ago, now.” He snapped it shut and looked at me. “And now if you’ll excuse me…?”

“Of course.” I stood. “One more thing—do you know where he went?”

“To the village, I suspect. I believe he intended to buy a mule for the trip home.”

***

I scoured the roads for him, talking to innkeepers, shopkeepers and farmers. Occasionally someone would report a lone man with wagon and mule. I followed his trail until the city was in sight.

I went straight to the farm. After some thoughts of waiting for him after dark again, about taking him to the barn and reliving some very warm memories, in the end I decided that the mature thing to do would be to go up and knock on the door. I arrived at twilight, just after the evening meal would have concluded.

Willard’s unmarried sister Charlotte answered the door.

“Talia the Tart! What are
you
doing here?”

“Good evening.” I swept by her and looked at the faces arrayed around the room. My eyes rested briefly at the three other Farmer sons before stopping on Old Man Farmer, who even now was lifting himself out of his seat on palsied arms.

“You! You strumpet! Get out of my house.”

“Gladly. I’m here for Willard. If he’s not here, then there’s little point in my staying.”

“What do you mean, you’re here for Willard?”

“Have you not heard from him? He’s left the monastery.”

“Left the monastery! That’s nonsense.”

“But he has. I just came from there. The abbot dismissed him.” They all stared at me in incomprehension for a moment. Then, a babble of voices broke out. “But, since you want me to leave,” I said over the confusion, “that’s what I must do.”

I turned to leave.

“Wait!” I turned back. Old Man Farmer took another step toward me. “What do you mean, the abbot dismissed him? You don’t dismiss a monk!”

“He never became a monk. He refused to take the vows. Finally, the abbot turned him out.”

“When?”

“Not a month ago.”

“A month ago? He ought to have arrived home by now.”

“I thought so too,” I said. “But since he’s not here, I must look elsewhere.”

Again, I turned to leave. I felt his clawlike hands grasping my upper arms and clenching with surprising strength.

“You’re going nowhere, girl. Not until I’ve said my say.” He turned to glare at Charlotte. “Get the young ones out of here.”

I watched with interest as the children left the room. I had no doubt that they’d be able to hear perfectly from the next room.

The old man turned to me. “Now,” he said. “There’re some things I’ve been wanting to say to you for fifteen years, now.”

“Seventeen,” I said.

“Eh?”

“It’s been seventeen years since you ended our betrothal and sent Willard off to a monastery.”

He glared at me for a moment, and then slammed his cane into the floor. “I will not be made the villain here! You ruined my son with your…your wanton ways. It’s no surprise that he was unable to make the commitment of a priest.”

“Well, I could easily counter that you ruined my life by taking my only chance at marriage away from me.”

“Why should he have saddled himself with you?”

“Because he wanted me.”

“Wanted you, eh? He went off to the monastery, after all, didn’t he?”

That hurt me, and I wanted to hurt him back.

“Yes, he wanted to be the honorable son. And he has been. Even after you took advantage of our sudden poverty to deny him his choice of a bride, only to get rid of him the instant he turned twenty. What kind of father is that?”

“What kind of young maiden spreads her legs as you did? Because of you, I spent the last three weeks I had with my son fighting with him every minute.”

“No, sir.
You’re
the one who sent him away. Had I married him, you would have celebrated my eagerness for your son, not called me a whore.”

“Only until we discovered your womb is as lifeless as a salted field. Thank God he didn’t get saddled with a barren wife.”

“I suppose you imagine the sterile life of a monk preferable to a happy life with a barren wife.”

“That’s enough. Get out.”

“Gladly.”

I turned, opened the door and walked out. Or rather, I tried. Instead, I walked right into the broad chest of a man standing on the stoop. He reached out and caught me before I fell.

I looked up into the face of a handsome stranger. A stranger, and yet…not.

“Willard?” I breathed.

His once-red hair was now a deep auburn. His face was square and lean, the freckles merged into a ruddy uniformity. His shoulders were much broader than they once were, with his torso tapering down to narrow hips. The arms that caught me were stronger than I thought possible from a former monk.

“Talia,” he said. “I never expected to find you here.”

“Where did you expect to find me?”

“Why, at your shop.”

I gazed at him in wonder. “You came to my shop?”

“Of course,” he said.

Old Man Farmer pushed in by me.

“Willard! By God, what a man you’ve turned out to be!”

“Father. I trust you are well.” His voice was clipped, polished and educated. It was the voice of a stranger.

“Come in, come in!” Old Man Farmer said.

“I think not,” Willard said. “I’ve been looking for Talia, and only came here when I couldn’t find her.”

“What?” he barked.

“Talia, may I give you a drive back to town?”

“Certainly,” I said.

He ignored his father’s shouts as he helped me up onto the driver’s bench of his wagon. Willard fended off his father as he swung up beside me. “I’ll be by on Sunday, Father.”

His shouts followed us as we drove toward the farm gates.

“The old man hasn’t changed a bit,” Willard said.

“It seems not.”

My own carriage was waiting outside the gate. I instructed them to drive back to town. The four smart horses quickly outpaced Willard’s lone mule, leaving us alone on the road.

“Whose coach is that?” Willard asked.

“Lady Sixfold’s,” I said. I still sometimes had trouble believing that she was me.

“I wondered why such a fine coach was visiting my father. I never imagined it was you.”

“And I never imagined—” I felt suddenly shy; how could I tell him that I never imagined that he would turn out so fine-looking? “—imagined such a scene,” I finished lamely.

“When my father’s involved, scenes are nothing uncommon. But tell me…do you work for the Lady Sixfold? Do I need to ask her permission to marry you?”

A warm feeling stole over me, starting from my middle and radiating outward. “Do you still want to marry me, Willard?”

“Yes. Assuming you still want me.” He looked unsure. “I mean, from what I heard you say to my father, I assumed…”

“I’ve never stopped wanting you, Willard, never stopped loving you,” I said. “But you’re right. You’re going to have to ask Lady Sixfold.”

He seemed speechless for a moment. “I see.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “Where can I find her? Is she very forbidding? Do you think she would agree?”

“Well, that depends. She knows all about you, actually. She would want to know if you were as fun as you once were.”

“Fun?”

“Yes. Has the monastery changed you? Would you be very shocked if Lady Sixfold climbed into your lap right now?”

“Into my
lap?
Why would Lady Sixfold…” His voice cut off as I climbed atop him.

“I am Lady Sixfold,” I said from my perch on his knees.

“You? But how?”

“You’ve heard some version of the Sleeping Beauty story by now, haven’t you?”

He frowned in confusion. “Yes. It seemed some child’s tale.”

“It was me.” He looked at me. “We have much to talk about,” I added. “There are things you should know about me. Unpleasant things.”

“We’ll see. Sit beside me and tell me the story.”

I gave him a playful pout. “The Willard I used to know would have his hand up my skirt by now.”

He met my gaze. His look was so intense that it melted the grin off my face. “The Willard you once knew is now a man. The Willard you once knew prefers to be called Will, now. And he is determined to take you to the altar properly this time.”

***

He took me to our old shop in Tallow’s End, which was dusty from disuse, but still ours. I found a spare key in an old hiding place and opened the door. And thus, while sitting once again, after so many years, on opposite ends of the couch in the front room, I told him everything. Including about all the men.

“I’ll not lie to you, Will.” This was the first time I tasted his new nickname. I like the way it felt on my tongue. “For a long while, I was the town trollop.”

“I know all about it,” he said. “Charlotte sent me letters.”

I could not speak at first. I stared at him, and his intense blue eyes steadfastly met my gaze. “And yet you still came for me? You’re still here?”

“It’s how I knew you were still unmarried. I love you, Talia. I always have. From that day you knocked my head when we both went for the apple.”

I couldn’t help it. I began to weep. He closed the distance between us and put his arm around me.

“Oh, Talia,” he said as he stroked my hair. “How can you love me? I took dreadful advantage of you.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“I did. That first week, I was like a greedy child. I took my pleasure from you without a thought of what you had given me. Then, you taught me the meaning of courage when you faced down all those women in the churchyard. I tried to make it up to you after that, but I have never been able to think of it afterward without shame.” He paused. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Will, you were the only boy who looked past the warts and saw someone worthy of passing your life with. When I built up your reputation, I was trying to deserve you.”

“I…You should know…there have been other women.”

I felt a pang of jealousy, but suppressed it. After all, I had hardly been chaste. “How did you manage, while in a monastery?”

“Well…there was this old woman who served as cook. When she died, the job passed to her spinster daughter. She, um, had a taste for younger men.”

“And?”

“And—” He cleared his throat. “The gardener’s daughter became a widow and moved in with him. They lived just outside the walls. Walls that were, er, easy to climb.”

“I see. And that’s it?”

“Well…there was this old woman who made advances toward me—”

“An old woman!”

“But I turned her down.”

And I laughed through my tears.

***

I didn’t understand what an occasion the marriage of Lady Sixfold would be. The preparations took months, during which time every moment that Will and I had together was meticulously chaperoned. Sometimes, I caught him looking dazzled, as if he didn’t quite understand what was happening to him. Other times, he looked amused, and I understood him perfectly.

The wedding itself was grand, with every person who had ever insulted me clamoring for an invitation. My future sister-in-law Charlotte stayed fastened to my side like a newfangled snap button. Hilda Cooper declared herself my longtime companion, a claim that Harla hotly denied. They settled it behind a tavern, and Hilda nursed a black eye for days.