The Penwyth Curse Part 12

Nicholas began yelling. Eleanor took her fingers out of her mouth and began yelling in harmony.

"When you have children, Merryn de Gay, which won't be for many years yeta"you have to wed, and that won't happen until many more suns have sunk low in the sky, and it doesn't involve Bishopa"you will wish to have babes like my little ones here. My precious Eleanor is the loudest, isn't she? Just like her mother."

Dienwald now held all three of his babes.

Philippa was laughing so hard she was holding her sides. She was also looking out of the corner of her eye at Merryn, wondering if she was thinking about Crooky's ill-chosen words.

She wasn't. She was looking about the great hall, taking in all the talking, laughing peoplea"scores of peoplea"most of them young with few wrinkles to share amongst them. And the children, so many of them, crawling or walking or skipping. It was amazing. She'd never seen such a thing in her life. And Philippa's three babes. They were still in their father's arms, laughing, yelling, bouncing up and down.

Bishop took her hand and sat her on the end of the trestle table bench. He gave her a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese. "It probably isn't as good as Beelzebub's, but it is tasty."

"Thank you," Merryn said and ate, never taking her eyes off the activity in the great hall of St. Erth.

When she'd eaten, she rose from her seat, placed her hands on her hips, and said, "Thank you, my lord and lady of St. Erth. I should have realized that this man, Bishop of Lythea""

"It's Sir Bishop. I knighted him myself."

"a"was a base liar. So that was your plan, Sir Bishop, to pretend to be at Penwyth only to root out the curse. All along you were there to marry the heiress." She raised her arm and pointed her finger directly at him.

"You believe what the fool sang?" Philippa said, an eyebrow arched upward. "It is his job to make up fantastic tales."

Merryn said, her foot tapping now, "He spoke the truth, even though the rhymes weren't very good."

The great hall fell silent as the grave. Even the children, even Dienwald's babes, were quiet, staring at Merryn and her outstretched arm.

"a"she's going to strike him down."

"a"she's going to kill him through the end of her finger."

Bishop heard the frightened whispers from just behind him. He slowly stood, stared at that pointing finger of hers, and walked toward her. He grabbed her arm and pulled it back to her side.

She was heaving, her breathing was so hard and fast. "Let me go, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Oh, no. Listen to me, Merryn. This cursea"I don't know what it means yet, but I will discover what it is all about and I will get rid of it. And yes, then I will marry you."

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

She yelled so loudly that his eardrums nearly heaved into his brain.

She drew back her arm and let loose, striking him hard in the jaw. Bishop reeled back and grabbed the edge of the table. For a moment he was so angry that he saw red creeping into his vision, felt his attention narrowing until it was solely on her. She had struck him. She had actually struck him. He looked at her, knowing that if he touched her in anger, he could kill her. He didn't want her dead, curse her eyes.

He threw back his head. "Listen, all of you. I have taken the maid from Penwyth far away from the seat of the curse. I will wed her right now, within the next hour, by Father Cramdle, who will ignore any screeching, any vile curses from my bride's mouth."

"You cannot make me wed you, Bishop." She ran at him, came onto her tiptoes, and shouted right in his face, "I won't have you, you miserable liar. You are worse than all the husbands. At least they were honest in their greed."

Bishop grabbed her, jerked her about so that her back was pressed against him, and held her arms firmly at her sides. He leaned down, whispered in her ear, "The king has given you to me. That is enough."

She said with no hesitation, with complete conviction, "Don't you understand, you half-wit? As long as there is the curse, you will die if you wed me."

d.a.m.nation, he did believe her.

Bishop said against her face, "Very well. I won't force you to marry me."

"Good. Let me go or I'll kick you until you yowl."

"You do that and I'll bare your bottom and thrash you. Right here, in front of everyone." He was silent for a moment, a thoughtful silence she didn't trust.

"Let me go, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"Oh, no. Do you know, Merryn, I think I'll do something else with you."

He loosened his hold enough so that she could turn to face him. She wanted to hit him, he could see it on her face, that open face of hers. But she held herself back. "A lot has happened since you came to Penwyth, Bishop. Tell me you understand now. If you marry me, you will die. It's that simple. I won't allow that to happen. I won't marry you."

He gave her a long look and said, "I understand. As I said, I'm thinking about something else now."

13.

BISHOP PULLED MERRYN away from the center of the great hall into a corner where there were three servants staring at them from the shadows and two small dogs chewing on an ancient leather strap. He waved them away, then whispered in her ear, "Aye, I understand, all right, but heed me, Merryn. The king has given you to me. There is no lie in that, no greed, no dishonesty, just my wish to remain alive until I get rid of that d.a.m.ned curse."

She punched him in the stomach. His breath whooshed out even as one of the nearby servants gasped in horror. Merryn said right in his face, all the while shaking her fist under his nose, "You're just a man, d.a.m.n you, just like all the rest of them. Does the king hate you, then, that he sends you to your death?"

"No," he said once he could breathe again. "He merely wants it done to his satisfaction, and that is you safely wedded to me and the curse a past memory."

"Listen to me, Bishop. If you wed me, you will die."

He stared down at the top of her head. She was strong. His belly still hurt. That b.l.o.o.d.y cursea"by all the saints' crooked teeth, Bishop hated what he couldn't see, what he couldn't examine, what he couldn't understand. Sometimes, he thought suddenly, sometimes he couldn't bear a wizard's knowledge, a wizard's gifts, a wizard's obligations.

He blinked, shook his head. He felt a moment of dizziness, and his vision grew dim. He managed to hold himself still until he was steady again.

Where had that bizarre thought come from? It had to be the curse creeping toward him, eager to topple him into his grave. Would foam ooze from his mouth? Would all his blood spurt out of his nose? He said, "I am tired of your evasions, your secrets, Merryn. I want the trutha"the curse comes through you somehow, doesn't it? And you manipulate it in some way, don't you?"

The great hall was as silent as stone. How had anyone heard him here in this shadowed corner with two d.a.m.ned dogs gnawing and growling over a leather strap near his left foot? But they had, and everyone had gone silent, leaning toward him. Suddenly one of Dienwald's twins started crying. Bishop heard Philippa say quietly, "It's all right, sweeting, come to Mama. If Bishop can't fix this, why, then, your father will tend to it."

Merryn said, "It's true I have red hair and green eyes, it's also true that there always has been a girl with red hair and green eyes for as far back as anyone can remember. But the cursea"it was fas.h.i.+oned hundreds of years ago. How could it have anything to do with me, Merryn de Gay?"

"Then why are four men dead?"

She shook her head. "I'm not a curse bearer, nor am I a poisoner. I haven't the skill or knowledge of such things."

Bishop slowly turned her to face him. He held her shoulders, leaned down, and said in her face, "When will you stop your d.a.m.ned lies?"

He managed to grab her wrist the instant before her fist would have slammed hard into his stomach. He drew her up against him, but it was she who said against his mouth, "I'm not lying to you. I have no secrets."

But he could see that she did, and it enraged him. The pulse pounded in his throat, "Very well, Merryn. I believe that even if I married you herea"away from Penwytha"I would still die."

"You will return me to Penwyth?"

"No." He smiled down at her, not at all a pleasant smile. "I told you, I have other plans for you."

She looked up at him, studying his expression, trying to judge what was in his mind. "A lot has happened since you came to Penwyth, Bishop."

"Aye, you are right about that. It's now been just two full days since I yelled up to the old men on Penwyth's ramparts to let me enter. By all the saints' sour breaths, just two d.a.m.nable days." His eyes darkened, now nearly as dark as the shadows that surrounded them. "If you wished to marry me, if you weren't coerced, then I wouldn't be struck down."

She said, so close now that her warm breath fanned his face, "Listen to me, Bishop. I believe that even if I stood on the Penwyth ramparts and yelled for all to hear that I wished to take you as my husband, you would still die."

"How do you know the curse would fell me if you agreed to wed me?"

"I don't know, but I'm not about to take the chance."

"What is this? You don't want me dead?"

She looked at him for a very long time, until one of the dogs slapped her foot with the leather strap. She raised her hand to touch him, then dropped it to her side again as she said, "No, I don't want you dead."

He smiled then. "Ah, you're protecting me."

She shrugged.

He knew everyone in the great hall was still listening, but he didn't pause. He said, "All right. I won't marry you."

Crooky jumped atop a trestle table, poked out his chest, scratched his armpit, and sang out: "The maid has won.

But she won't be glad.

She'll die a virgin Alone and sad."

The fool's song actually rhymed, and rhymed well, Merryn thought, but those rhyming words weren't true. They weren't. Something would happen, something would change, something had to change. She wouldn't die alone. She thought of all the old men at Penwyth she'd known all her life, as had her father before her. Had they ever been as young as she was now? They would die, they had to sometime, since they couldn't last forever, and then there would be no one to grow old with her. Oh, G.o.d, would she die alone? Alone and sad? Those weren't comforting words Crooky had sung.

"No," Bishop said, loud enough so that all heard him, "she won't die a virgin."

"I was worried about dying alone," she said. "I hadn't yet considered the virgin part."

His anger, boiling but two minutes before, was now at a simmer. He didn't want to smile, but it was difficult to keep his mouth straight.

Crooky pointed at Gorkel the Hideous, who was chewing on a sprig of rosemary, and yelled, "Old Agnes told Gorkel that the rosemary would make his breath so fine all the young maids would follow him about, demanding kisses. Tell us, monster, what think you of all this Penwyth witchery? Come, let your words flow from your sweet mouth."

Gorkel made a face as he swallowed the last of the rosemary, but most couldn't tell because he was so very ugly. "I say the maid shouldn't p.r.i.c.k t'young soon-to-be lord of Penwyth, tha.s.s what I say."

"But what does that have to do with witchery, monster?"

"There is no witchery," Gorkel said, standing not a foot from Crooky, his head thrown back so even the wolfhounds came to attention. "A maid should dedicate herself to making her husband's rod hard and strong, jess like our own sweet mistress does for t'master."

Philippa waved her fist at Gorkel, and he laughed, a deep belly laugh that was a terrifying sound.

Crooky held his nose and fell backward off the trestle table to roll in the rushes. He lay there on his back and said, "My dearest mistress, give the monster a sweet kiss, for his breath is so pleasing it knocked me flat on my a.r.s.e."

Merryn couldn't help it. She laughed, as did every person in the great hall.

Bishop, however, was suddenly aware that there was something wrong. But what? Someone or something was close, he felt it, saw the shadow of it, felt the air change, felt the p.r.i.c.kle on the back of his neck. He whirled about. There was nothing save one of Dienwald's wolfhounds sc.r.a.ping his nails on the stone floor.

By all the saints' flapping tongues, what was wrong with him?

He waited until Philippa, a small boy under each arm, stretched on her tiptoes, let the little boys pat Gorkel's face and tug on his hair. Gorkel leaned down and Philippa kissed his forehead. "It's a sweet breath you have, Gorkel," she said, and his face split into a huge ugly grin.

"Hear ye, Crooky, the rosemary wrought wondrous magic. T'mistress said so."

Crooky yelled out, "All you fair maids, come and kiss the monster."

Not one of the fair maids moved. Old Agnes cackled through her two remaining teeth. "I'll come kiss you, Gorkel."

Gorkel gave a whistle of fear and took a quick step back, covering his mouth with his hands.

Bishop said, "Philippa, if you would please give Merryn some more clothing. We are leaving within the hour."

"Oh, aye," Dienwald said. "I'll give you some as well, Bishop. And some supplies. Eldwin! See to it."

Merryn raised her eyes to his face. "You're taking me home?"

Bishop shook his head.

"Where are we going?"

He just shook his head. "I will tell you just one thing, Merryn," he said, loud enough for all to hear, "you will not die a virgin."

"I suppose that is good to know," Merryn said as the great hall filled with laughter, cheers, shouted advice on how to relieve the maid of her maidenhead.

"I trust," Dienwald said to Bishop, "that you know what you're doing."

Bishop was staring after Merryn, who was carrying the two little boys while Philippa carried Eleanor. "I hope so, Dienwald, I surely do."

"Where do you plan to go?"

"Two days' travela"to the northeast."

"You sound like you know exactly where you're going."

"Oddly enough, I do."

"I have a friend, Roland de Tourney, who lives that way. If you have need of any a.s.sistance, stop at Chitterley. He'll help you."

"Thank you." Bishop plowed his fingers through his hair. "Nothing is as I expected it to be. And now I'm off and I know where I'm going, but none of it makes any sense." Then the words just leapt out of his mouth. "Dienwald, do you believe me capable of magic?"

Dienwald didn't laugh. He looked out over his great hall. He saw Margot scrubbing one of the trestle tables. Gorkel was picking small sprigs of rosemary out of the rushes on the floor, whistling through the s.p.a.ce between his large front teeth, then popping the sprigs into his mouth.