Draco A Medieval Scottish Roma - Jayne Castel Page 0,64
sharp green eyes narrowed, and a muscle worked upon her jaw, but she continued to hold her tongue.
Draco told her of the curse—of how he, Maximus, and Cassian had spent each coming of the Broom-star hoping that the curse would finally be broken. He then revealed that they’d believed he was the ‘Dragon’ and Gavina the ‘White Hawk’.
He didn’t look at Gavina while he spoke. She already knew the story, and it was hard enough to recount it. He hated reliving the memories. The words left a bitter taste upon his tongue.
And when he finally concluded his explanation, silence fell in the hovel.
Eventually, Nessa broke it. “Well.” She cleared her throat then, wiping her palms upon the skirt of her kirtle. “That’s quite a tale.”
“It’s all true,” Draco growled, tensing.
Nessa met his eye, boldly and without a trace of fear. “I don’t doubt ye, Draco Vulcan. Few folk would have the wits to come up with such a lie.”
Draco inclined his head, respect rising within him. He’d expected her to call him the ‘devil’ or a ‘demon’. The fact that she believed him outright shocked him.
As he’d told Gavina, he and his friends had seen a number of ‘witches’ over the years. Most of them had been foolish, superstitious women. A few had reacted badly to the story—and none had provided any useful advice.
This woman had responded with such a calm, intense focus that it took him aback.
“Few folk would take my words at face value,” he replied softly. “Who are you, Nessa?”
Her mouth curved, even as her gaze shuttered. “That doesn’t matter,” she replied, her attention shifting to where Gavina sat silently next to him. “Ye aren’t here for that … instead, the pair of ye are in a right mess. Ye need answers.”
“Can ye help us?” The hope in Gavina’s voice made Draco glance her way. “Can ye help Draco break the curse upon him and his friends? It has been a terrible weight for them all to bear over the years.” She was staring at Nessa, the veiled expression she’d worn until now lowered. She looked achingly vulnerable sitting there.
Draco’s chest constricted. Why did she have to be so kind, so gracious? He’d given her nothing of himself; he certainly didn’t deserve her compassion.
The wise woman’s gaze flicked from Gavina to Draco, her expression softening. “I will do what I can,” she murmured. “Although the curse upon ye is an ancient one … and cast by one far more powerful than me.”
Disappointment closed Draco’s throat at these words, and his lips flattened. They weren’t off to a promising start. Maybe he’d been right about coming here after all. Despite his initial impression, this woman wouldn’t be any cleverer than the others who’d wasted their time.
Only barely holding his tongue, he watched as Nessa rose to her feet, dusted off her skirts, and picked her way across the messy, rush-strewn floor toward a bench that lay along one wall of the hovel.
The woman started murmuring to herself, bustling about, as she sorted through piles of drying herbs, clay jars, and baskets of objects. And as she worked, Draco cast a sidelong look in Gavina’s direction.
She wasn’t watching Nessa, but him.
In the flickering firelight, her face looked pale, her gaze worried. She didn’t need to say a word; he could see the regret writ upon her face. Like him, she now feared that Nessa couldn’t help them.
The wise woman spent a while collecting objects from the bench, before she placed them into a small basket and carried it back to the hearth. “I was concerned I’d lack some of the ingredients for this,” she explained, her brow furrowed. “But lucky for ye, I found them. There’s a Mead Moon out tonight too … the timing for this divination is good.”
Draco stared back at her, biting back a snort. Why did he have the feeling she was about to make a fool of him?
“There is one more ingredient I need,” the woman continued, holding his gaze. “Fresh blood.”
Draco tensed, and his alarm must have shown, for Nessa smiled. “Not yers. I’ve a fowl coop behind this cottage … the birds will all be roosting. Can ye fetch me one?”
Draco let out the breath he’d been holding and glanced over at Gavina. The hopeful look on her face now pained him, and so he gave a reluctant nod, rose to his feet, and went to do the wise woman’s bidding.
Returning shortly after, a brown hen in his arms, he found Nessa