“What can I get you? Water, wine, mead, apple juice?” she asked, clattering about in a cupboard.
“Water, please,” I said, at the same moment Belis asked for “Wine if you have it.”
We glared at each other then looked away. Vatta set three smooth earthenware cups on the table, filled one from a ewer of water near the roof and the others from a jug of wine. Belis moved to sit down at the opposite end of the table. She picked up a scroll that the chicken had been pecking at.
“Is this Greek?” she asked, turning it over in her hands.
“Yes, Plato’sRepublic. One of the earlier volumes.” Vatta puttered over to peer at the scroll. “Do you read Greek, my dear?”
Belis shook her head, holding the parchment as if it was as delicate as a butterfly’s wings.
“No, only Latin and some runes. I just recognised some of the characters. How did you come to learn Greek? There can’t be many traders this far west and you said you didn’t speak with the Romans.”
I detected an edge to her voice and realised without knowing how that she had tensed, ready to grab for her knife again.
Vatta yawned. “Oh, I intercepted a wagonload of goods going along the road to Glevum a few years back. Mostly records andlogistics but a few interesting books here and there. I taught myself the basics with a spell of understanding.”
“Intercepted?” I asked. Vatta grinned at me then nodded to the cup of water she had poured. “Replaced the whole lot with chicken dung. They stopped disrespecting me after that. Drink up. You will stay here tonight, and tomorrow I will direct you to a farm that will sell you horses.”
I took a sip of the water. It was clear and fresh, with the slight acidic tang that water from this part of the world always had. Belis drank her wine and eagerly accepted the tranches of bread, meat and cheese that Vatta served us.
I offered a piece of the cheese to the cat, who deigned to take it from me without biting my hand. I muffled a yawn of my own. Sharp-eyed Vatta saw it.
“Go and rest. I am sure Belis and I will find something to talk about.”
I glanced longingly at the bed and realised it had been almost two days since I had slept, then back at Belis. She nodded.
“Go. I would say we are as safe here as anywhere in Britain. Besides, I want to talk witchcraft with Vatta and I doubt that will interest you.”
I slid down from the seat and padded over to the bed. I kicked off my boots and collapsed onto the blankets. It was warm and cosy and the clucking of chickens was surprisingly soothing. I fell asleep almost instantly.
By the time I woke, the shutters were closed and flames were burning merrily in the brick fireplace. It took me a moment to remember where I was – it had been the first true rest I had had since losing my immortal form. There was a comforting warmth in the bed beside me. I sat up. Belis was lying next to me, her head on a pillow next to my feet. Her hair was loose, covering her shoulders in a wave of copper curls She looked younger, gentler than I had seen her before, the fatigue and grief of the last week smoothed away by sleep. I felt my frustrationswith her fade, just a little, and something knotted inside me. Probably hunger.
I gingerly picked myself up out of the bed, trying not to disturb her, and padded over towards the kitchen table, wiggling my toes on the smooth polished floorboards.
Vatta was seated on a long bench, fingers busy making what looked like a fishing lure out of twine and chicken feathers. I took a seat beside her and she nodded towards a bowl covered with a fine linen cloth.
“Your dinner. We didn’t want to wake you.”
I lifted the cloth, revealing a lamb stew. I spooned some of it into my mouth. It was delicious, still warm and well salted. The best food of the fae courts could not compete with this fresh fare. We sat in silence for a while as I ate, disturbed only by the clucking of the roosting chickens and the faint growling purrs of Vatta’s cat.
I finished my bowl and pushed it away, resting a contented hand on my stomach. “Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb Belis. “I appreciate your offerings. I will repay your faith when I am restored.”
Vatta smiled at me then stood up.
“Come, let us talk outside. That princess of yours needs her rest.”
I glanced at Belis then grabbed my cloak from where it had been hung over one of the antlers of the deer skeleton. Vatta opened the door for me and we slipped out onto the planked decking. She led me around from the entrance to the back of the cottage where a pair of rocking chairs had been placed in front of a gap in the canopy.
I sat in the left-hand chair and looked out. The sky was clear and the stars were bright in the firmament. My eyesight was not as good as it had been, but it still filled my heart to see my old friends. I had spent countless nights staring up at the stars and they were one of the last links back to my old life left to me. Below them the woods of the Cotswold hills faded into the floodplain of the Severn, which glittered silver in the starlight as it wound its way into the west.
“Pretty view, isn’t it,” said Vatta, taking the other chair and leaning back. “I can see all the way to the Brecon Beacons on a clear day. Mind you, it’s bitter cold when the wind is in the west.”
“How is it we’ve never met before?’ I asked, turning away from the vista. “A witch with your obvious powers, you should be known by every small fae and human with half an ounce of magic south of the Humber. I should have been listening to gossip about you for years. Yet I’ve never heard your name mentioned by even the nosiest pedlars.”
Vatta tucked in her cloak around her legs, a half-smile on her lips.
“You mean why am I content to live in obscurity in a treehouse rather than leveraging my magic to rule over half of the island?”
