proud.
"Weren't you punished?"
"A night in the stocks."
Gwenda gave a little cry of anguish. "Poor you!"
"It wasn't so bad. My brother made sure no one pelted me."
"Even so..." Gwenda was horrified. The idea of being imprisoned in any way seemed to her the worst kind of torture.
Annet finished with a customer and joined in the conversation. "Oh, it's you, Gwenda," she said coldly. Wulfric might be oblivious to Gwenda's feelings, but Annet was not, and she treated Gwenda with a mixture of hostility and scorn. "Wulfric fought a squire who insulted me," she said, unable to conceal her satisfaction. "He was just like a knight in a ballad."
Gwenda said sharply: "I wouldn't want him to get his face hurt for my sake."
"Fortunately, that's not very likely, is it?" Annet smiled triumphantly.
Caris said: "One never knows what the future may hold."
Annet looked at her, startled by the interruption, and showed surprise that Gwenda's companion was so expensively dressed.
Caris took Gwenda's arm. "Such a pleasure to meet you Wigleigh folk," she said graciously. "Goodbye."
They walked on. Gwenda giggled. "You were terribly condescending to Annet."
"She annoyed me. Her kind give women a bad name."
"She was so pleased that Wulfric got beaten up for her sake! I'd like to poke out her eyes."
Caris said thoughtfully: "Apart from his good looks, what is he actually like?"
"Strong, proud, loyal - just the type to get into a fight on someone else's behalf. But he's the kind of man who will provide tirelessly for his family, year in and year out, until the day he drops dead."
Caris said nothing.
Gwenda said: "He doesn't appeal to you, does he?"
"You make him sound a bit dull."
"If you'd grown up with my father, you wouldn't think a good provider was dull."
"I know." Caris squeezed Gwenda's arm. "I think he's wonderful for you - and, to prove it, I'm going to help you get him."
Gwenda was not expecting that. "How?"
"Come with me."
They left the fairground and walked to the north end of the town. Caris led Gwenda to a small house in a side street near St Mark's parish church. "A wise woman lives here," she said. Leaving the dogs outside, they ducked through a low doorway.
The single, narrow downstairs room was divided by a curtain. In the front half were a chair and a bench. The fireplace had to be at the back, Gwenda thought, and she wondered why someone would want to hide whatever went on in the kitchen. The room was clean, and there was a strong smell, herby and slightly acid, hardly a perfume but not unpleasant. Caris called out: "Mattie, it's me."
After a moment, a woman of about forty pulled aside the curtain and came through. She had grey hair and pale indoor skin. She smiled when she saw Caris. Then she gave Gwenda a hard look and said: "I see your friend is in love - but the boy hardly speaks to her."
Gwenda gasped: "How did you know?"
Mattie sat on the chair heavily: she was stout, and short of breath. "People come here for three reasons: sickness, revenge and love. You look healthy, and you're too young for revenge, so you must be in love. And the boy must be indifferent to you, otherwise you wouldn't need my help."
Gwenda glanced at Caris, who looked pleased and said: "I told you she was wise." The two girls sat on the bench and looked expectantly at the woman.
Mattie went on: "He lives close to you, probably in the same village; but his family are wealthier than yours."
"All true." Gwenda was amazed. No doubt Mattie was guessing, but she was so accurate it seemed as if she must have second sight.
"Is he handsome?"
"Very."
"But he's in love with the prettiest girl in the village."
"If you like that type."
"And her family, too, is wealthier than yours."
"Yes."
Mattie nodded. "A familiar story. I can help you. But you must understand something. I have nothing to do with the spirit world. Only God can work miracles."
Gwenda was puzzled. Everyone knew that the spirits of the dead controlled all of life's hazards. If they were pleased with you, they would guide rabbits to your traps, give you healthy babies, and make the sun shine on your ripening corn. But if you did something to anger them, they could put worms in your apples, cause your cow to give birth to a deformed calf, and make your husband impotent. Even the physicians at the priory admitted that prayers to the saints