A candle—one rolled by my own sister-in-law’s hand, smelling of rose oil pressed by Ilsit and Fox, lit from the low firein my own hearth, something stoked by Jade for my dinner—was brought out. Bertram brought its wick to the book and then let the burning thing fall from his hands to ignite the rest.
I screamed again and crawled towards the flames but was hoisted up and away by Bertram. I thrashed and wept in his arms, throwing my elbows back trying to jab and hit. I called him foul names under my breath. But even I, in my grief, knew what line to draw, knew that I was detained by the son of a lord.
When they left me, I was kneeling next to the smoking heap they had let burn and then doused with my well water and, in the case of two of the soldiers and Bertram, their own piss. My tears were silent now, and I did not move. I sat there for some time. I felt I had to hold a sort of vigil over the funeral pyre of a lifetime’s worth of stories and studies.
4
NOW: SHOUTING
Ilsit, disobeying me and Jade, found me there when she returned to the farm hours later. “What’s all this mess?” she cried, storming into the yard.
Feebly, I explained and then let her ensuing tirade, mostly directed at Gerard, bring me some cold comfort. She pulled me to standing, propping me up, and half carried me to sit on the lone front step, then squeezed herself to sit next to me. “And they didn’t put hands on you?”
I shook my head, thinking that telling her of Bertram would serve no purpose.
We both looked up at the sound of a lone horse’s hooves to see Tessa riding towards us down the road. She was in such a hurry, she secured the gate behind her and didn’t even bother to tie up or stable her horse.
As he wandered around the yard, Ilsit said, “If Jade catches that beast in her cabbage, she’ll spank you with a switch, Tessa.”
“What happened?” Tessa asked, looking at the heap of charred books in the yard. “Kate, the wheelwright’s woman, came to myhouse—said the priest, the lord, and guards were coming out here to raid your house.”
While my sister-in-law sat down on the other side of me, Ilsit informed her of what I had just relayed. None of the three of us were small framed, and there was hardly room for all of us on the step.
“At least they didn’t find the moss or any of the other medicinals.”
“That’s what I said,” Ilsit agreed. “I know you love your books, Robbie.”
I remained silent, a numbness having descended on me. All I could think of wasThe Life of Unaflickering and disintegrating before my eyes.
“They won’t box you for this, I don’t think,” Tessa offered. “The destruction of your belongings alone is a punishment. Starling will enjoy the idea of you beingafraidof boxing rather than actually doing it again. That’s how his head works. And it really is better than being found with mother’s moss.”
“Better the books than something that might save a woman’s life,” added Ilsit. “Sorry. I do feel for you. I’m just not much of a reader.”
Despite my exhaustion and despair, I huffed. “You’ve readThe Warrior’s Ladyabout ten times since you got here.”
“Well, he puts his head under her skirts for a whole... four pages at least.”
“Oh! I like that one too,” said Tessa.
“You don’t even like men,” I exclaimed.
“I don’t have to eat pig to know bacon can smell good.”
Ilsit burst out laughing. “Menarepigs.”
Inside the house, I sat in the old rocking chair, my hands folded in my lap, nearly unable to move. I let the two of them tidy the house, put cast-about tools and dishes away, sweep up all the twigs and leaves spread by the guards having torn down our drying herbs and ferns. I let them refold and rehang all of our clothes. I let themstraighten and reposition all the furniture that had been pushed over and aside. I wanted to help, but I could not move.
Ilsit assured me that Jade and Fox were spending the night in the forest with the medicinals to be safe. They made me go to bed, said I needed to sleep. Ilsit went to bed on her mattress in the front room, and Tessa took Jade’s mattress beside it. In the morning I rose early, having slept little, and told them I was going to let Jade and Fox know it was safe to come home. On my way into the forest, down a footpath I knew would lead to the old warden shed that Jade had once lived in, I heard her voice through the trees.
“We’ll leave all of it in the forest for now,” she was saying to Fox.
I squinted through the trees and could barely make out their figures in the cloudy morning’s mist. They were on another footpath, returning to the farm. Knowing I could not withstand seeing their faces when they saw the burned books, knowing it was perhaps cowardly, I kept on. I craved the solitude of Nyossa, the first place that had ever felt like home.
I rambled for a time, knowing I had about an hour before their search party would come for me. More and more, our home had gotten cramped—by Ilsit’s moving in, though I did welcome her, and by Tessa’s frequent overnight stays, her saying she felt lonely now without her wife or stepdaughter. After this loss, I craved solitude.
There was a clearing to which I often returned. In wetter springs, it was like a marsh, a runoff from a part of the river that seeped into the land, providing a perfect home for dragonflies, turtles, and frogs. When the summer sun hit, it dried out. Nests of snakes and rats lived there then, birds of prey flying overhead and eyeing their dinner.
I liked to stand at its edge and see how many living beings I could pick out before one of them noticed me and scurried away.
