Page 87 of The Changeling

‘What do you do here, my lord?’ Mam called back. ‘Should you no’ be home with your wife, instead of disturbing our peace with all your noise?’

‘The Regent has ordered us to bring you in on charges of witchcraft!’

‘And what have I done to warrant such a charge?’

‘You ken what you have done! Casting your spells, tempting men to sin.’

‘I have done no such thing! That is your own lustfulness speaking. You canna bear anyone to say nay to you. Well, I say nay, and will do so till the day I die.’

‘Then you shall die tonight.’ He turned and said to the men crowding behind him, ‘We need to ram the door down. Fetch an axe. We’ll cut down that ungodly wishing tree of theirs and use the trunk.’

‘No! Leave it be!’ Mam cried.

I remembered how she had buried the braid of our hair beneath the hawthorn, and cast a spell of protection over us in the faery queen’s name. Lord Patrick must have heard the desperation in her voice, for he took our axe from the woodpile and hacked the tree down himself. It fell with a crash, all its bright ribbons and charms broken and dirtied.

‘You swine! Now all will be undone!’ Mam sobbed, bending her face down into her hands.

The men heaved up the fallen tree and used its trunk to try to ram down our door.

‘Now, lassies!’ Mam cried.

Sorcha and I hurled the wicker skeps down onto their heads. The baskets burst; clouds of angry bees buzzed out. The men yelled and danced, trying to brush them away. We exchanged glances of fierce satisfaction before we ran downstairs. I grabbed my satchel with my cooking utensils in it, and Sorcha flung a warm plaid about her and caught up a knife. That was all we had time to seize. Already the front door was cracking under the repeated blows of the ram.

‘Come, lassies,’ Mam shouted. We ran into the walled garden, Carlin bounding before us, and Mam unlocked the back gate. We slipped through and she locked it again behind us. Then we crept across the dark fields to the woods that clustered around the foot of the Knock. Behind us, the witch-hunters smashed up our belongings, then threw flaming torches into our thatch to burn our house down.

I pulled loose the ribbon which bound my plait, tied a knot in it and chanted, ‘I canna be heard, I canna be seen, I am but a shadow …’

Mist and rain drifted down from a sky that had been thick with stars only a moment before. It quenched the burning thatch and timbers, doused the men’s torches, and washed away our footprints.

Sorcha gazed at me in amazement, and Mam drew me into the shelter of her arm and kissed my brow. ‘You have come into your powers, lass. We may still manage to escape.’

We spent the night crouched in the bracken, our plaids wrapped tight about us. I told them what had happened, and how Lord James had named me, and how Nan had been taken.

‘How did you get away?’ Mam asked.

All I could manage to say was ‘Robbie’.

Sorcha sensed the pain in my voice, and put her arm about me.

As soon as it was light, men came hunting us with beaters and dogs, as if we were prey. We heard their horns and the dogs barking, and the hammer of their horses’ hooves. Through the damp, misty forest we ran, and climbed higher up the Knock.

‘I know a cave where we can hide,’ Mam said. ‘Beneath the crag. Come on.’

My steps slowed. A cave? Not the cave where the faery folk dwelled?

But the sound of the dogs and the horns drove me on. I stumbled after Mam and Sorcha, Carlin loping at my side, the brambles tearing at my dress and plaid. Up through a grove of birch trees, the black markings on the silver trunks like burn scars, and then into a forest of oak and pine. My breath came in harsh pants.

At last we crept into a shallow cave, its entrance hidden by two entwined elder trees. We crouched within, our plaids wrapped tight about us, shivering as much from fear as the cold. Once again I chanted my spell of concealment. Once more, rain and mist hid us from sight.

‘Why are they chasing us?’ Sorcha’s voice trembled. ‘They’ve driven us from our home and tried to burn it down. What more do they want from us?’

‘Lord Patrick wanted you seized,’ I told Mam. ‘He seemed to hate you.’

Mam was silent awhile, then said abruptly, ‘Patrick has always wanted me, ever since I was your age. He would not take nay for an answer. I tried avoiding him, I tried being polite but firm, but he thought he was the lord of the castle and I was his maidservant, and he could take me if he wished. He got me alone one day, and held me down. I … I kneed him in the groin, hard as I could, and told him never to touch me again or he’d be sorry. He was in agony, rolling on the ground, screaming, and everyone came running. I was dismissed, but he was humiliated.’

‘Well done, you!’ Sorcha said admiringly.

‘I began working at Inchbrakie and met your father and fell in love. Patrick … he saw us together … and couldna believe I would give another man what I wouldna give him. He grabbed me one night as I walked home from work, and tried again to force me, but Nan heard me scream and stopped him.’