Although he had stretched out his arm, he had not been able to take the candle—the crowd had kept him just out of reach—and he had said, loudly and with some conviction: “Don’t worry, princess. Don’t you worry.” He was conscious of the emptiness of what he was saying even as he spoke, so he was surprised when the crowd quietened, and even the blacksmith’s widow took a step back. Only then did he realise the reaction had not been to his words, but to the approach behind him of the pastor.
“What manners are these for the Lord’s day?” The pastor strode past Axl and glared at the now silent gathering. “Well?”
“It’s Mistress Beatrice, sir,” the blacksmith’s widow said. “She’s got herself a candle.”
Beatrice’s face was a tight mask again, but she did not avoid the pastor’s gaze when it settled on her.
“I can see for myself it’s true, Mistress Beatrice,” the pastor said. “Now you’ll not have forgotten the council’s edict that you and your husband will not be permitted candles in your chamber.”
“We’ve neither of us ever tumbled a candle in our lives, sir. We will not sit night after night in darkness.”
“The decision has been made and you’re to abide by it until the council decides otherwise.”
Axl saw the anger blaze in her eyes. “It’s nothing but unkindness. That’s all it is.” She said this quietly, almost under her breath, but looking straight at the pastor.
“Remove the candle from her,” the pastor said. “Do as I say. Take it from her.”
As several hands reached towards her, it seemed to Axl she had not fully understood what the pastor had said. For she stood in the middle of the jostling with a puzzled look, continuing to grip the candle as if only by some forgotten instinct. Then panic seemed to seize her and she held the candle out towards Axl again, even as she was knocked off balance. She did not fall on account of those pressing in on her, and recovering, held out the candle for him yet again. He tried to take it, but another hand snatched it away, and then the pastor’s voice boomed out:
“Enough! Leave Mistress Beatrice in peace and none of you speak unkindly to her. She’s an old woman who doesn’t understand all she does. Enough I say! This is no fit behaviour for the Lord’s day.”
Axl, finally reaching her, took her in his arms, and the crowd melted away. When he recalled this moment, it seemed to him they stayed like that for a long time, standing close together, she with her head resting on his chest, just the way she had done the day of the strange woman’s visit, as though she were merely weary and wishing to catch her breath. He continued to hold her as the pastor called again for the people to disperse. When finally they separated and looked around themselves, they found they were alone beside the cow field and its barred wooden gate.
“What does it matter, princess?” he said. “What do we need with a candle? We’re well used to moving around our room without one. And don’t we keep ourselves entertained well enough with our talk, candle or no candle?”
He observed her carefully. She appeared dreamy, and not particularly upset.
“I’m sorry, Axl,” she said. “The candle’s gone. I should have kept it a secret for the two of us. But I was overjoyed when the young girl brought it to me and she’d crafted it herself just for us. Now it’s gone. No matter.”
“No matter at all, princess.”
“They think us a foolish pair, Axl.”
She took a step forward and placed her head on his chest again. And it was then that she said, her voice muffled so he at first thought he had misheard:
“Our son, Axl. Do you remember our son? When they were pushing me just now, it was our son I remembered. A fine, strong, upright man. Why must we stay in this place? Let’s go to our son’s village. He’ll protect us and see no one treats us ill. Will your heart not change on it, Axl, and all these years now passed? Do you still say we can’t go to him?”
As she said this, softly into his chest, many fragments of memory tugged at Axl’s mind, so much so that he felt almost faint. He loosened his hold on her and stepped back, fearing he might sway and cause her to lose her own balance.
“What’s this you’re saying, princess? Was I ever the one to stop us journeying to our son’s village?”
“But surely you were, Axl. Surely you were.”
“When did I speak against such a journey, princess?”
“I always thought you did, husband. But oh, Axl, I don’t remember clearly now you question it. And why do we stand out here, fine day though it is?”
Beatrice appeared confused again. She looked into his face, then all around her, at the pleasant sunshine, their neighbours once more giving attention to their activities.
“Let’s go and sit in our chamber,” she said after a while. “Let it be just the two of us for a while. A fine day, right enough, but I’m all tired out. Let’s go inside.”
“That’s right, princess. Sit down and rest a while, out of this sun. You’ll soon feel better.”
There were others awake now all around the warren. The shepherds must have gone out some time ago though he had been so lost in thought he had not even heard them. At the other end of the room Beatrice made a murmuring sound, as though she were preparing to sing, then turned over under the blankets. Recognising these signals, Axl made his way across to the bed in silence, sat carefully on its edge and waited.
Beatrice shifted onto her back, opened her eyes partially and gazed at Axl.
“Good morning, husband,” she said eventually. “I’m glad to see the spirits chose not to take you away as I slept.”
“Princess, there’s something I want to talk about.”
Beatrice went on gazing up at him, her eyes still only half open. Then she brought herself up to a sitting posture, her face crossing the beam of light that earlier had illuminated the spider. Her grey mane, untied and matted, hung stiffly down past her shoulders, but Axl still felt happiness stir within him at this sight of her in the morning light.
“What is it you have to say, Axl, and before I’ve had time to rub the sleep from my eyes?”
“We talked before, princess, about a journey we might make. Well, here’s the spring upon us, and perhaps it’s time we set off.”
“Set off, Axl? Set off when?”
“As soon as we’re able. We need only be gone a few days. The village can spare us. We’ll talk to the pastor.”
“And will we go to see our son, Axl?”
“That’s where we’ll go. To see our son.”
Outside the birds were now in chorus. Beatrice turned her gaze towards the window and the sun leaking past the cloth hung over it.
“Some days I remember him clear enough,” she said. “Then the next day it’s as if a veil’s fallen over his memory. But our son’s a fine and good man, I know that for sure.”
“Why is he not with us here now, princess?”
“I don’t know, Axl. It could be he quarrelled with the elders and had to leave. I’ve asked around and there’s no one here remembers him. But he wouldn’t have done anything to bring shame on himself, I know for sure. Can you remember nothing of it yourself, Axl?”
“When I was outside just now, doing my best to remember all I could in the stillness, many things came back to me. But I can’t remember our son, neither his face nor his voice, though sometimes I think I can see him when he was a small boy, and I’m leading him by the hand beside the riverbank, or when he was weeping one time and I was reaching out to comfort him. But what he looks like today, where he’s living, if he has a son of his own, I don’t remember at all. I was hoping you’d remember more, princess.”
“He’s our son,” Beatrice said. “So I can feel things about him, even if I don’t remember clearly. And I know he longs for us to leave this place and be living with him under his protection.”
“He’s our flesh and blood, so why would he not want us to join him?”
“Even so, I’ll miss this place, Axl. This small chamber of ours and this village. No
light thing to leave a place you’ve known all your life.”
“No one’s asking us to do it without thought, princess. While I was waiting for the sun to rise just now, I was thinking we’ll need to make this journey to our son’s village and talk with him. For even if we’re his mother and father, it’s not for us to arrive one fine day and demand to live as part of his village.”
“You’re right, husband.”
“There’s another thing troubles me, princess. This village may only be a few days away as you say. But how will we know where to find it?”
Beatrice fell silent, gazing into the space before her, her shoulders swaying gently with her breathing. “I believe we’ll know our way well enough, Axl,” she said eventually. “Even if we don’t yet know his exact village, I’ll have travelled to ones nearby often enough with the other women when trading our honey and tin. I’ll know my way blindfolded to the Great Plain, and the Saxon village beyond where we’ve often rested. Our son’s village can only be a little way further, so we’ll find it with little trouble. Axl, are we really to go soon?”
“Yes, princess. We’ll start preparing today.”
Chapter Two
There were, however, plenty of things to attend to before they could set off. In a village like this, many items necessary for their journey—blankets, water flasks, tinder—were communally owned and securing their use required much bargaining with neighbours. Moreover, Axl and Beatrice, advanced though they were in years, had their burden of daily duties and could not simply go away without the consent of the community. And even when they were finally ready to leave, a turn in the weather delayed them further. For what was the point of risking the hazards of fog, rain and cold when sunshine was surely just around the corner?
But they did eventually set off, with walking sticks and bundles on their backs, on a bright morning of wispy white clouds and a strong breeze. Axl had wished to start at first light—it was clear to him the day would be fine—but Beatrice had insisted on waiting till the sun was higher. The Saxon village where they would shelter the first night, she argued, was easily within a day’s walk, and surely their priority was to cross the corner of the Great Plain as close to noon as possible, when the dark forces of that place were most likely to be dormant.
It had been a while since they had walked any distance together, and Axl had been anxious about his wife’s stamina. But after an hour he found himself reassured: though her pace was slow—he noticed again something lop-sided about her gait, as if she were cushioning some pain—Beatrice kept moving on steadily, head down into the wind in open land, undaunted when confronted by thistles and undergrowth. On uphills, or ground so muddy it was an effort to pull one foot out after the other, she would slow right down, but keep pushing on.
In the days before their journey’s start, Beatrice had grown increasingly confident of remembering their route, at least as far as the Saxon village which she had regularly visited with the other women over the years. But once they lost sight of the craggy hills above their settlement, and had crossed the valley beyond the marshland, she became less certain. At a fork in a path, or facing a windswept field, she would pause and stand for a long time, panic creeping into her gaze as she surveyed the land.
“Don’t worry, princess,” Axl would say on such occasions. “Don’t worry and take all the time you need.”
“But Axl,” she would say, turning to him, “we don’t have time. We must cross the Great Plain at noon if we’re to do so in safety.”
“We’ll be there in good time, princess. You take all the time you need.”
I might point out here that navigation in open country was something much more difficult in those days, and not just because of the lack of reliable compasses and maps. We did not yet have the hedgerows that so pleasantly divide the countryside today into field, lane and meadow. A traveller of that time would, often as not, find himself in featureless landscape, the view almost identical whichever way he turned. A row of standing stones on the far horizon, a turn of a stream, the particular rise and fall of a valley: such clues were the only means of charting a course. And the consequences of a wrong turn could often prove fatal. Never mind the possibilities of perishing in bad weather: straying off course meant exposing oneself more than ever to the risk of assailants—human, animal or supernatural—lurking away from the established roads.
You might have been surprised by how little they conversed as they walked, this couple usually so full of things to tell each other. But at a time when a broken ankle or an infected graze could be lifethreatening, there was a recognition that concentration was desirable at each and every step. You might also have noted that whenever the path grew too narrow to walk side by side, it was always Beatrice, not Axl, who went in front. This too might surprise you, it seeming more natural for the man to go first into potentially hazardous terrain, and sure enough, in woodland or where there was the possibility of wolves or bears, they would switch positions without discussion. But for the most part, Axl would make sure his wife went first, for the reason that practically every fiend or evil spirit they were likely to encounter was known to target its prey at the rear of a party—in much the way, I suppose, a big cat will stalk an antelope at the back of the herd. There were numerous instances of a traveller glancing back to the companion walking behind, only to find the latter vanished without trace. It was the fear of such an occurrence that compelled Beatrice intermittently to ask as they walked: “Are you still there, Axl?” To which he would answer routinely: “Still here, princess.”
They reached the edge of the Great Plain by late morning. Axl suggested they push on and put the hazard behind them, but Beatrice was adamant they should wait till noon. They sat down on a rock at the top of the hillslope leading down to the plain, and watched carefully the shortening shadows of their sticks, held upright before them in the earth.
“It may be a good sky, Axl,” she said. “And I’ve not heard of any wickedness befalling a person in this corner of the plain. All the same, better wait for noon, when surely no demon will care even to peek out to see us pass.”
“We’ll wait, just as you say, princess. And you’re right, this is the Great Plain after all, even if it’s a benevolent corner of it.”
They sat there like that for a little while, looking down at the land before them, hardly speaking. At one point Beatrice said:
“When we see our son, Axl, he’s sure to insist we live at his village. Won’t it be strange to leave our neighbours after these years, even if they’re sometimes teasing our grey hairs?”
“Nothing’s decided yet, princess. We’ll talk everything over with our son when we see him.” Axl went on gazing out at the Great Plain. Then he shook his head and said quietly: “It’s odd, the way I can’t recall him at all just now.”
“I thought I dreamt about him last night,” Beatrice said. “Standing by a well, and turning, just a little to one side, and calling to someone. What came before or after’s gone now.”
“At least you saw him, princess, even if in a dream. What did he look like?”
“A strong, handsome face, that much I remember. But the colour of his eyes, the turn of his cheek, I’ve no memory of them.”
“I don’t recall his face now at all,” Axl said. “It must all be the work of this mist. Many things I’ll happily let go to it, but it’s cruel when we can’t remember a precious thing like that.”
She moved closer to him, letting her head fall on his shoulder. The wind was now beating hard at them and part of her cloak had come loose. Putting an arm around her, Axl trapped the cloak and held it tightly to her.
“Well, I dare say one or the other of us will remember soon enough,” he said.
“Let’s try, Axl. Let’s both of us try. It’s as if we’ve mislaid a precious stone. But surely we’ll find it again if we both try.”
“Surely we will, princess. But look, the shadows are almost gone. It’s time for us to go down.”
Beatrice strai
ghtened and began rummaging in her bundle. “Here, we’ll carry these.”
She handed to him what looked like two smooth pebbles, but when he studied them he saw complex patterns cut into the face of each one.
“Put them in your belt, Axl, and take care to keep the markings facing out. It will help the Lord Christ keep us safe. I’ll carry these others.”
“One will be enough for me, princess.”
“No, Axl, we’ll share them equally. Now what I remember is there’s a path to follow down there and unless rain’s washed it away the walking will be easier than most of what we’ve had. But there’s one place we need to be cautious. Axl, are you listening to me? It’s when the path goes over where the giant is buried. To one who doesn’t know it, it’s an ordinary hill, but I’ll signal to you and when you see me you’re to follow off the path and round the edge of the hill till we meet the same path on its way down. It’ll do us no good treading over such a grave, high noon or not. Are you fully understanding me, Axl?”
“Don’t worry, princess, I understand you very well.”
“And I don’t need to remind you. If we see a stranger on our path, or calling us from nearby, or any poor animal caught in a trap or injured in a ditch, or any such thing might catch your attention, you don’t speak a word or slow your step for it.”
“I’m no fool, princess.”
“Well, then, Axl, it’s time we went.”
As Beatrice had promised, they were required to walk on the Great Plain for only a short distance. Their path, though muddy at times, remained defined and never took them out of sunlight. After an initial descent it climbed steadily, till they found themselves walking along a high ridge, moorland on either side of them. The wind was fierce, but if anything a welcome antidote to the noon sun. The ground everywhere was covered in heather and gorse, never more than knee high, and only occasionally did a tree come into view—some solitary, crone-like specimen, bowed by endless gales. Then a valley appeared to their right, reminding them of the power and mystery of the Great Plain, and that they were now trespassing on but a small corner of it.