Anne gives me coins and clothes, ones that she has finished with, and pretty silver pins too.'
Gytha shook her head. 'You think I bought Yadua with money or jewels? Where would I get such things? No, you may take her now and one day in the months or years to come, I'll ask you to perform some small service for me. That will be the payment. Are we agreed?'
Elena hesitated, as well she might. It's foolish to strike a bargain when you don't know the price. And everyone knows you must never fail to pay a cunning woman, unless you have grown weary of living. It's as dangerous as swimming in the mill race or killing the king's venison; worse, for even a slow hanging is quicker and less painful than the death that a cunning woman will send you. But, so Elena reasoned, Gytha had refused payment.
'Swear on the bones.' The voice from the bed was cracked and shrill.
Elena jumped. She couldn't remember ever having heard the old woman speak before.
The old lady was leaning, forward, her white, sightless eyes fixed on Elena's own as if she could see right through to her soul. 'Unless you see where the shadow of the devil fox is running, you'll not be able to protect yourself or the bairn. You need Yadua. Swear you will do what my daughter says.'
Both women were watching her intently. Elena found herself nodding, and the old woman relaxed against the bed as though she could sense the movement of assent. Gytha took her wrist and led her, stumbling, to her mother's bed. The old woman fumbled for Elena's free hand and pushed it down upon the heap of bones so hard that it felt as if she was trying to impress her skin with the seal of them. Elena winced, but the old woman's hand held her fast like an iron shackle. 'Say it.'
'I sw . . . swear.'
They released her. Gytha wrapped the mandrake in a piece of rag and thrust it into her hands.
'Remember first you must feed her — a drop of his seed, a drop of your blood.' As Elena walked away, Gytha called after her, Yadua has other powers, great powers which she can turn against those who do not pay the price for her. I warn you, do not betray her.'
Gytha leaned against the door post of her little hut, watching the twilight gather up Elena's slender figure as she disappeared into the shadows. Then the cunning woman dragged herself upright and wandered over to the fire. She stood warming her hands over the flames.
'Have I chosen right, Madron?'
'The choice was never yours to make,' Madron spat. You think you have that power? The day Yadua healed her, Yadua marked her.'
Madron heaved herself upright in the bed. From under the filthy covers she pulled a small wizen apple dried to the lightness of a feather over the smoke of the fire. A scrap of bloodstained cloth torn from a child's shift was tied about it. The wizened fruit was pierced with eleven black thorns. The twelfth thorn was now ash blowing about the land wherever the wind would drive it.
Madron held out the dried fruit in her wrinkled palm. 'Her apple. She was the one who came when you burned the thorns. Of all those girls you made apples for, she was the only one to come when you summoned her and on the very day the spirits warned us. She must be the one Yadua has chosen.'
Gytha took the pierced apple and rolled it in her hands, pressing the thorns deeper and deeper into the dried withered flesh. 'I can summon any living creature to me, be it man or beast, but getting them to act against their nature is not so easy.'
'You must make it her nature. She has Yadua now. So you must make her do what we need. Yadua will not let us rest in this world or the next till she does. It's not just Yadua's screams that send men mad, as well you know.'
'But how am I to make her, Madron? She's not —'
'That's your trouble, lass, always wanting to know how and why and when. Too impatient to let anything brew to its full strength. What have I always told you? You have to raise a skeleton one bone at a time afore you can set it dancing. We've waited many years, but now at last we've proof that the spirits are stirring.