Never Trust a Dead Man Read online

Page 4

 

  Selwyn gulped, although she was right It was obvious. She was a witch.

  The old woman continued. "But I didnt smack you for asking who I am, for theres no way you could know that. My name is Elswyth. " She hit him again.

  "What was that for?"

  "That was for not asking for water, which you obviously are in desperate need of. " She set the glowing light on her head - or, rather, a handspan above her head - and unfastened what he had thought was her humped back. It was, in truth, a pack. The light dipped to follow her as she sat down on the floor, more limber than he would have guessed from her age. She searched through the bag and pulled out a wineskin, which she handed to him. It held water, musty and warm and more wonderful than anything. The inside of his throat unstuck from itself, but he didnt want to appear greedy and selfish - not to a witch who could balance a ball of light over her head and who had an inclination for hitting. "Thank you," he said, offering it back still half foil.

  "Go ahead and finish," she said. "Its plain water. I havent bespelled it"

  It hadnt occurred to him to worry that a witch might give him water tainted by witchcraft. Until she said it. He finished the water anyway, for whatever harm there was in it was already done. "Thank you," he said again, much subdued.

  "Youre welcome. "

  He glanced around the corpse-lined cave and both wondered about and flinched from the thought of what she might want from the dead.

  Elswyth took pity and answered the question without making him ask it. "For one of my spells, I need a lock of hair from a man newly dead. I heard that someone had died in Penryth on the other side of the wood, so I came to the burial caves. " She glared at him through narrowed eyes. "I hope youre not the one they were talking about. You wont do at all. Did somebody think you were dead?"

  "No," Selwyn assured her. "Farold is the dead man. " He waved in the general direction. Farold had most definitely begun to smell, a sickly sweet odor from off to Selwyns right. "Im here as punishment for killing him - not," he added in the same breath, "that I did kill him. But I was accused of it. " He didnt know what to make of the look Elswyth was giving him. Did she believe him? Or, considering that she was a witch, would she prefer to hear that he really was a murderer?

  She said, "So your townsfolk accused you of murder and condemned you to die here alongside your victim?"

  Not knowing where - if anywhere - lay hope of rescue, Selwyn nodded.

  Elswyth said, "Sweat from the brow of a condemned man is an ingredient in several spells. May I?. . . in payment for the water I gave you? I very much believe in payment for favors granted. " She was already rummaging through her pack.

  Selwyn looked at her in horror. She didnt care: Murderer or innocent victim of justice gone awry, it made no difference to her. He was sweating despite the cold as she took a piece of unbleached wool from her pack and blotted his forehead with it.

  "Good," Elswyth said. She folded the cloth and placed it in a small wooden box. "Fine. This will do. Now shall we discuss what youll pay me for leading you out of here? I assume you do want to leave - unless you are so overcome by feelings of guilt that you believe you deserve to die this way. "

  "I told you," Selwyn said, "I didnt do it. "

  She waited, without reaction, for his answer.

  "Of course I want to get out," Selwyn said. "Ill do anything you want if youll help me. "

  She smacked him on the side of the head. "That," he heard her say once the ringing in his ears began to fade, "is for being too foolish to bargain. So be it. You owe me a year of your service: housework, chopping firewood, fetching ingredients for my spells, whatever I ask. For a year. "

  "No," Selwyn said, suddenly realizing what he might have gotten himself into.

  "Too late. You already agreed beforehand. Youre lucky Im in a good mood and didnt say you owe me your entire life. " She shook her head. "Foolish boy," she muttered, getting to her feet. "How was an old woman like me to keep you from following me out anyway, for free?" Just the thought of how foolish hed been drove her to hit him again.

  Selwyn saw it coming, but - seeing how foolish hed been - he didnt even try to duck.

  Chapter Five

  The witch Elswyth took a knife from her pack and once again held the edge of her cloak up over her nose. She sniffed. Once was enough to find Farold. All Selwyns flailing about in the dark - walking into walls and risking the ire of the spirits of the dead that he stumbled over or into - had taken him fewer than a dozen steps from where the burial party had originally left him.

  "Wait," Selwyn whispered in horror, looking at Farolds dangling arm. "He moved. "

  Elswyth sniffed again. She told Selwyn, "You smell terrible. He most definitely smells dead. "

  Which didnt ease Selwyns fear at all.

  Seeing his face, Elswyth snapped impatiently, "Hes not moving. "

  "I dont mean now. " Selwyn wasnt willing to come any closer. The magic light that hovered over Elswyths head was bright enough to leave hardly any shadows, which was both fortunate and not. "But. . . " He pointed first at the body, shrouded in one blanket, then at the arm, which had a separate wrapping, for Farold had already begun to stiffen before the village women prepared him for burial. It was one of the last things Selwyn had seen, as the torches were being carried away: Farold bundled into the niche in the wall, his arm sticking straight out But now it hung down, still wrapped, the edge nearly brushing the floor.

  Did I break his arm? Selwyn thought, horrified, recalling how he had walked into Farolds body in the dark. Would Farolds spirit be restless because of it?

  Would Farolds spirit be angry because of it?

  Surely not as angry as it would be at whoever had killed him, Selwyn assured himself. Surely a man who had gone through murder wouldnt hold the accidental breaking of an arm against someone.

  Elswyth shook her head at him, as though all his thoughts were written on his face. If she had been standing close enough, she probably would have smacked him yet again. Pressing the cloth of her cloak even tighter against her nose, she used her knife to cut open the seam the village women had sewn to close Farold into the blanket She wrinkled her face on seeing the two-day-old corpse, which made Selwyn think better of her. Then she picked up the dangling arm and folded it over Farolds chest, as if she, too, believed in decorum. "Dead bodies go stiff," she told Selwyn. She wiggled the loose arm. "And then they relax again. Theres nothing to fret about here, except that in another day the body will start leaking, and well want to be away by then. "

  And except, Selwyn thought squeamishly, that she seemed to have more experience than anyone should with dead bodies.

  She leaned over and cut off a lock of Farolds light brown hair, then wrapped it in another piece of unbleached wool cloth from her pack. Finished, she tucked the blanket back under Farolds body as carefully as a mother tucking in a sleeping child.

  "Im finished here," she told Selwyn, "unless you wanted to steal some of the knives or rings or other possessions these people were buried with. "

  "No," Selwyn assured her hotly. But then, for the first time, he considered that perhaps not all her suggestions were meant to be taken seriously. "No," he repeated more calmly.

  And she did smile.

  "Come. " She swept the light from its place a handspan above her head so that it once more rested not quite in her palm. "Your service to me begins now. You will start by carrying my pack. "

  "Elswyth," he called. It seemed overfamiliar, considering the vast difference in their ages, considering the power she had. But he wasnt sure how one addressed a witch. Obviously not My lady. Your Unholiness? But she had given the name Elswyth, whether or not that was truly her name.

  She turned back to look at him, with an expression that didnt seem annoyed with his familiarity but that warned she was prepared for - and willing to deal harshly with - any nonsense he might be planning.

  He spoke quickly. "Im worried about my family. "
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  She glanced around the burial cavern. "Are they here?" But her tone was suspicious.

  "No," he said hurriedly, before she became too distrustful of anything he said. "But they know I was put here. "

  Elswyth obviously didnt see the connection. She gestured for him to continue speaking, motioning with the hand that the light followed, which was dizzying to watch.

  "They wont realize that youve. . . " He hesitated, then said, "rescued," and she snorted. He took a deep breath. "They wont realize that youve rescued me. " He drifted off, unsettled.

  "Then theyll have a pleasant surprise a year from now, wont they?" she said in a tone that hinted she didnt entirely believe that would be the case.

  Selwyn spoke quickly, for shed started to turn back around. "But my father . . . Im worried about my father. That he might do something hasty and foolish. That he might try to rescue me himself, or go after Bowden, who sentenced me to this fate. And then they might do the same to him, or kill him outright. "

  She was regarding him blankly.

  "Im worried that if my father doesnt know Im safe, he may do something rash that will endanger his own safety. "

  Elswyth said, "Are you trying to ask something?"

  She was a witch, Selwyn reminded himself. Despite the fact that she looked like somebodys grandmother, she was not used to the love and concern of families. "Im asking if my service to you can begin tomorrow. Ill carry your pack out for you," he assured her hastily. "Ill accompany you wherever you want to go. But I want to stop by home first, and let my parents see Im unharmed, and let them know Ill be coming back in a year. "

  "But you wont," Elswyth pointed out "For surely your villagers would take your continued existence badly. "

  "Oh. " Selwyn was embarrassed he hadnt thought of that. "Then, Ill tell my parents that Im unharmed, but that, obviously, I wont be able to return home. Theyll be satisfied with that, if they have to be, so long as they know Im safe. "

  Elswyth was shaking her head. "If you suspect that your father might attempt rescue or vengeance, surely others will have the same thought. Theyll have set up a watch on him. "

  The hard part was knowing she was probably right.

  "Then," Selwyn said desperately, "can you send word to them?"

  "Would that be before or after your father tries his rash scheme and is punished for it?"

  "Well, what do you suggest?" Selwyn cried out in frustration.

  "That you let the world take care of itself," Elswyth said.

  "Were not talking about the world," Selwyn said. "Were talking about my family. "

  Elswyth looked at him with that face of hers that gave away nothing of what she was thinking.

  Selwyn tried to control his ragged breathing. "I need," he said, "to prove that I didnt kill Farold. Thats the only way Ill ever be able to return. Thats the only way my family can ever go back to being what it was. "

  Elswyths eyebrows went up skeptically, but she didnt contradict him. "What are you asking?" she asked.

  "Im asking that the year I promised to give you be delayed, until after Ive proven my innocence. "

  "And what are you offering in return?"

  Selwyn tried to evaluate her, as she so clearly kept evaluating him. "More time?" he asked hesitantly.

  "Another year," she agreed.

  Selwyns heart sank. But if he could survive a year in her service, surely he could survive two.

  Elswyth said, "You will give me two years of service for delaying the start of that service until tomorrow morning. "

  "Tomorrow morning?" Selwyn squeaked.

  "You asked for tonight. "

  "But that was to explain to my parents," Selwyn said, "not to undertake to prove my innocence. "

  She held out her arms to show she was being open and generous. "How long? If you never succeed, does that mean you will never fulfill your obligation to me?

  There must be a time limit, after which you will come to me whether you have achieved your quest or not. " Selwyn was about to say he supposed that was fair, when she said, "One week. In exchange for one more week of freedom, you will give me a third year. "

  "But - "

  "If you havent accomplished what you propose in one week, what makes you think youll ever be able to? If you feel, at the end of that week, that you are close to proving your innocence, come speak to me about it, and well see what can be arranged. "

  Selwyn had a vision of the entire remainder of his life spent in her service.

  "Agreed or not?" Elswyth asked.

  "Agreed," Selwyn said, for he had no choice. "Except - "

  This called her back as she was once again beginning to turn to leave.

  Elswyth sighed loudly, as though she was the one who kept losing in this bargaining. "What?"

  "What would it cost me to buy a spell from you?"

  Selwyn didnt at all like the smile she gave him at that.

  "What kind of spell?" she asked.

  "A spell to prove my innocence. "

  "You will have to be more specific than that," she told him.

  Selwyn considered. There were only two people who knew for a fact that he was innocent: he himself and the murderer. He cast a nervous glance at Farolds shrouded body. Well, actually, counting the dead man, that made three. He swallowed hard and said to Elswyth, "You know a great deal about dead bodies. "

  "Im well read," she told him with a wildly innocent smile.

  "Do you know how to bring the dead back to life?"

  "No," she said. But she paused to deliberate. Selwyn held his breath, which had nothing to do with the smell. She said, "Well, perhaps. But only temporarily. And it depends. . . "

  Selwyn could hardly get his voice to work, knowing he was getting himself into the darkest sorceries. He asked, "On what?"