“He was injured a fortnight ago, but—” Alys paused suddenly, her mind going at once to the bandages on Piers’s hand, and then further back, to the night they had met at the Foxe Ring. Her stomach clenched.
“He was bitten. Layla”—she gestured to the monkey on her shoulder—“accidentally bit him, several days ago.”
The woman frowned and released Alys’s arm as she edged away from Alys and her monkey. “Well, there’ll benaught you can do for him this night, as exhausted and cold as you seem.” She looked Alys up and down. “And hungry, too, I’d wager?”
Alys felt her eyes well with tears and she could do little more than nod hesitantly. “I am. Layla will not bite you, mistress. She is a gentle animal, you have my vow. Piers took her by surprise the night he was bitten, and she was merely frightened. She shan’t harm you.”
“I see. That is often the way with animals. Well, then.” The woman drew her arm around Alys’s waist, steering her gently toward the heart of the village. “I’m Ella. You—and Layla—may stay with me and my family tonight, rest, and then someone will speak to Ira for you in the morning.”
“No,” Alys said, shaking her head. No one would take her responsibilities from her again. “I would speak for myself.”
Ella paused. “Alright. But will you come with me? Take some food and drink and lie down?”
“Thank you very much,” Alys said in acceptance. “I’m Alys, by the way.”
“Pleased to meet you, Lady Alys,” Ella said with a smile.
“No. No lady here,” Alys said wryly. “Just Alys.”
Ella’s smile grew wider with knowing. “Come along then, Just Alys. I’ll help you into the tree.”
Alys balked to a stop.
“Tree?”
Chapter 15
Alys awoke with a start, her breath huffing in white rushes from her mouth. In an instant, the nightmare that had roused her was gone, like the clouds of her own steamy breath. She blew out a relieved sigh and leaned back fully onto the sagging rope cot that was her bed. It felt like the most luxurious ticking, even after a long night of hard sleeping. She looked down to check on Layla, but the monkey was not there.
Alys bolted upright in the bed, her hands reaching out to grasp the rope sides and steady the swinging her motion had set off. She’d had quite her fill of swinging from a rope the previous evening. Ella’s family’s hut circled a large tree, its platform perhaps eight feet wide, trunk to outer edge. She could hear the sounds of the forest beyond the skins that covered the sidewalls like a tent, and the interior was largely dark thanks to the skins and the pine boughs laid over a crisscrossing frame of skinny limbs which formed the roof. Alys guessed that the hut was used mostly as sleeping quarters, as the interior contained little else save several more of the swinging cots and clothing hanging from pegs hammered into the tree trunk.
“Layla?” Alys called softly, not wishing to call attention to any of the villagers yet—she needed time to collect her thoughts and work up a plan of action for approaching Ira. But she was concerned that the monkey was gone from her side. Although Ella’s hospitality was a kindness Alys had not expected, she was still unsure about the nature of these people who chose to eke out such a rugged existence as outlaws that they had been relegated to legend. Alys herself could still scarcely believe any of it was real.
“Layla?” she whispered a bit more insistently.
“Not to worry, Lady Alys—I’ve your lovely pet right here.”
Alys looked over her left shoulder and saw the murky outline of a person—a girl from the sound of the voice, or perhaps a very young boy. Whoever it was clearly had Layla on their lap, and was feeding her something from a bowl.
“Oh. Hello,” Alys said, pushing her hair out of her eyes. She was unused to having a stranger present when she awoke. “Who are you?”
“I’m Tiny,” the shadow replied. “I—and most everyone else—was asleep when you arrived last night. Good morn to you. I fancy your monkey, milady. Reminds me of me baby brother.”
Alys huffed a laugh. “Thank you. She is very pretty, but also very troublesome at times.” Alys didn’t want to seem stingy, but she was uncomfortable with the entire situation. She patted her thigh. “Come here, Layla, and bid me good morn.”
Layla’s shadow seemed to turn toward her as if debating, and then Tiny spoke up again in a giggling voice.
“I don’t think she wishes to leave her breakfast just yet,milady.” The shadow held forth a bowl. “Fresh turnip? I sliced it meself.”
“Perhaps in a bit,” Alys hedged. “Tiny, are you one of Ella’s”—daughters? Sons?—“children?”
“Aye, milady. Her oldest girl, am I. Nearly thirteen,” Tiny said proudly. “‘Tis why Mam allowed me to sit with you.”
“Oh.” Alys was deciding on the best method for disembarking from her cot. She shifted one leg as if to throw it over the side, but the whole thing swayed wildly, prompting Alys to bring her legs together quickly and grip the side ropes. Her experience with Ira’s snare was still too fresh in her mind.
“It’s best to just roll out at once and catch your feet under you,” Tiny advised sagely. “Else you’ll come upon your nose.” She set the bowl on the hut floor and then stood, and Alys saw Layla hop onto the girl’s shoulder easily. Tiny took a step toward the bed and held out her palm. “Take my hand, milady—I’ll steady you for your first time.”
“Thank you,” Alys mumbled and was surprised at the delicate feel of Tiny’s small hand—the child had been named suitably. Holding her breath, Alys rolled, and was grateful when she was able to catch her feet under herself with a huff of breath. She stood fully upright. “That wasn’t so bad.”
