muttering broke out behind her as the crowd of villagers tore apart this new morsel.
Osborn held his hand up for silence. 'Which village? Where was she to take the child?'
'I don't know,' Elena wailed. 'She wouldn't tell me in case I was driven to go there to find him and the dream should in that way come true. She said she'd known such things to happen and the only way to prevent it was if I didn't know where to look.'
The villagers excitedly debated the truth of this amongst themselves, but whispering this time, fearing Osborn's anger.
Osborn glared at Raffaele. 'Am I the only one who has any wits left in this manor? Why didn't you go to this woman Gill or whatever her blasted name is, and ask her to tell you where the child is to be found? It seems plain enough to me that either she can produce the infant, in which case the girl is innocent, or she cannot, in which case we may safely assume the baby is dead. It should be a simple matter to prove, even for you.'
The effort of keeping his tone civil showed plainly in Raffaele's face. 'I did go to the cunning woman immediately I heard Elena's story. But Gytha and her mother have gone and taken all their possessions with them, what little they had, anyway.'
'When did they depart?'
'They lived out near the forest, well beyond the last crofts in the village, and no one recalls seeing them for a week, but that signifies nothing for the villagers only go to them when they have need. Gytha could have left yesterday or even this morning before we arrived.'
Several of the villagers nodded in agreement.
Elena broke in. 'I gave my bairn to them yesterday morning. So they must have gone to take him to the wet nurse. When they come back they'll tell you, I know they will.'
Joan, who had scrambled to her feet, stepped closer to the dais, her fear replaced with a look of triumph now that she could see things were swinging her way.
'That's certain proof she's lying, my lord. Gytha's mother was blind and couldn't even stir from her bed, hasn't walked for years. What cause would Gytha have to drag the old woman on such a journey if she was only going to deliver the child and then return to the village? And why would she take all her pots and stores? No, they've done a flit, gone for good, left a week ago, which that witch Elena knows right well. She's an unnatural mother. There's plenty of women in Gastmere can swear that we had to hold her down and force her to suckle her own babe when he was born. Even Elena's own mother will tell you that. What kind of a mother doesn't want to nurse her own child? What manner of woman begs the faeries to take her child?'
Several women in the crowd crossed themselves and hissed their hatred of such wickedness. Elena's mother was sobbing loudly, in the arms of one of her neighbours, telling any who would listen that she couldn't understand what had come over her daughter and that she had tried her best to raise her to be a good girl. Neighbours sadly shook their heads; the shame of this would surely send the poor woman to an early grave.
Joan, spurred on by the outrage of the crowd, bellowed her words out as if she was a priest in the pulpit. 'Elena murdered my precious little grandson just to spite me, and she pretended the bairn was with Gytha, 'cause she knew right well that Gytha and her mother had already gone from the village days ago, so they wouldn't be here to gainsay her.'
Raffaele opened his mouth as if to protest, but nothing came out and he stared down at the floor, his face grim with misery.
Osborn leaned back in his chair and addressed the assembled company. 'Then, unless anyone else has proof to the contrary, there can be no doubt the girl is guilty.'
Elena was trembling violently. She stared wildly around the hall, desperately searching for someone who would say something to defend her, but all she received in return were cold stares from faces grim with shock and revulsion.
'Mam,' she pleaded, 'tell them I wouldn't do such a thing. Tell them I'd never hurt my own bairn.'
But Cecily only sobbed harder, turning her face away from her daughter into the comforting arms of her