She had been expecting Raffaele to take her away from this place, but it suddenly occurred to her there was no need. If Gytha simply gave her back her son, she could go home and prove that she had been innocent all along. True, she was still a runaway villein, but surely if they could see she had been falsely accused then all would be well. Only Ma and Talbot knew she'd killed Raoul and Hugh and they wouldn't tell anyone. As Ma said, they'd be putting themselves in danger if they did.
Athan would be overjoyed to see them both and filled with remorse at not having believed her. She could already feel his arms about her; smell the familiar, comforting warm- hay scent of his neck; hear him say he would do anything to make it up to her. And that bright, multi-coloured dream drove all other thoughts from Elena's head. She was a drunkard who laughs at the pretty dancing flames without realizing that it is her own house that is burning.
She beamed at Gytha. 'Now that you've come, I can take my son back home to Athan. I don't have to hide here any more.'
Gytha frowned. 'Athan, but. . .' A curious look came over her face. 'So,' she breathed softly, 'so Madron was right, this will make it easier.'
'What?' Elena demanded. Then, receiving no answer, she said eagerly, 'When can I see my little son? Is he here in Norwich? Is he grown? I've longed so much to hold him again.'
Gytha's eyes flicked round each of the chairs in the room, then, drawing up a footstool, she squatted on that instead, as if she was back in her own cottage. She motioned Elena to sit, and without thinking, Elena hunkered down on the wooden floor. It seemed natural now that Gytha was here.
'Don't fret over your bairn, lass, you'll see him soon enough. But you made a promise, remember? A debt. You must needs pay it afore you can see your son.'
You mean money for the child's keep?' Elena said. 'I can get that. How much does the wet nurse want?' She was sure Raffaele would give it to her.
Gytha gave a grunt of laughter. 'Not for the bairn, for Yadua. You bought her from me, remember, so you could learn what the night-hag would show you in your dreams. I told you Yadua can't be got with coins or jewels, only for the same payment for which she was bought. I warned you that some day I would ask you for a small service. And you swore you would do it.' Gytha had leaned forward, and now her cold, hard eyes were boring into Elena's so intensely that Elena felt her skin prickle. 'That day has come, lass. Time to pay what you owe.'
Without knowing what she was afraid of, Elena's stomach shrank into a knot. What is it... what do you want me to do?'
Gytha cupped her hands together like a bowl, and stared down into them. Whether it was the angle at which she held them to the candles, or something more, Elena couldn't be certain, but it seemed to her that an ice-blue light was flickering in the hollow of Gytha's palms as if she held a tiny imp imprisoned there.
'Let me tell how Yadua was bought, lass, the price that was paid for her. Then you'll understand what you must do.'
Gytha's gaze flickered briefly up to Elena's face before returning to the dancing flame in her hands.
'Many years before I was born, a poor man called Warren came to visit a healer in the city of Lincoln in the dead of night. This woman's name was Gunilda. Warren told her his little daughter had been cruelly raped by a Norman knight, but being a poor man, he could get no justice for his child who lived in constant terror that the man might return and attack her again. He begged Gunilda for a poison to kill this knight, so his daughter might recover her wits. Gunilda felt pity for him, for she had a daughter of much the same age, and seeing how distraught he was, she agreed to give him the poison, and in exchange he gave her the priceless treasure of a mandrake.
'But the man had lied. He had no daughter, nor any bairn to his name then. He was himself a wealthy knight and wanted the poison to murder his innocent wife, so that he could marry his