Crispin_ At the Edge of the World - Avi [19]
Once I’d freed Troth from the mob, I lifted her bodily and began to haul her away as best I could. But as we moved away, there came another shriek from the house: the tormented cry of the husband, Goodman William. “Dead!” he screamed. “My wife and babe are dead!”
Hearing the death cry, the people as one shifted their attention to the house.
I stopped and turned, the weeping Troth still in my arms. As we looked on, Goodman William staggered out. Collapsing to his knees, head striking the earth, he beat the ground with his fists. “Dead! Dead!” he cried repeatedly.
The people went to him as if to provide comfort. As they did, the bailiff rushed into the house.
I let Troth down so that she stood on her own unsteady feet. She was trying to regain her breath, straining from me. Fearful that she’d go back and be caught by the crowd, I would not let her go.
Next moment, Aude appeared, blood upon her. She did not come on her own. The bailiff was dragging her by her hair. Being so light, so frail, the old woman could make but feeble resistance.
“Kill her!” shouted the bailiff, throwing her to the ground. “She worships foul gods! She caused the good wife’s death!” He began to kick the fallen woman. Next moment, the people swarmed round and attacked Aude too. I could hear the blows, the cries.
Troth, with a horrific scream of pain—as though her heart were being ripped from her chest—struggled to free herself from me. Frightened that the villagers would turn on Troth, I clung to her tightly. Though she made dreadful, pleading sounds, I began to pull her away, fleeing as best I could.
At first I simply ran, paying no heed where I was going, save making my way out of the valley. No longer hearing cries from the village, I stopped and looked back. The crowd had drawn back. A mangled, bloody body lay before them. It was Aude.
I had no doubt that she was no longer alive.
Troth strained desperately to get away from me.
“There’s no helping her,” I said, unwilling to release her. “If you go back, they’ll kill you, too.”
Suddenly, Troth turned about and, sobbing uncontrollably, clutched me around my neck so tightly I gasped for breath.
“We need to get back to Bear,” I told her. “I don’t know the way. Troth, take us back to Bear.”
I pried her grip loose, but kept holding her, fearful she would bolt back to Aude.
The two of us stared toward the village. The people had gathered round Aude’s broken body. Then some one pointed in our direction. Two men started running toward us. One was the bailiff. I had little doubt what might happen.
“Troth,” I pleaded, “we must get to Bear!”
Though weeping and struggling for breath, Troth bolted toward the forest following unseen paths. I, who but moments before was her protector, was now in need of her guidance.
15
WE ARRIVED at the bower panting, gasping for breath. “Bear! Bear!” I cried as we burst in.
Troth, crying wildly, ran to Bear and buried her face in his chest. Taken by surprise, Bear wrapped his arms about her, even as he looked over at me for an explanation.
“They’ve killed Aude!” I shouted.
The blood seemed to drain from his face. “Who? Why?”
I told him what had happened as quickly as I could. “And they’re coming after us,” I said. “We must leave. Now!”
Bear looked at me then spoke into Troth’s ear, loud enough for me to hear. “Troth, you can’t stay here,” he said. “You must come with us. We’ll keep you safe.”
Troth, her whole body shaking, as if the tumult of her emotions were writhing within, frantic to burst free, nodded mutely to Bear’s words.
“Crispin,” he called to me, “get whatever’s ours. Hurry!”
I gathered up our sack, making sure it had our few things.
Gently, Bear pushed Troth away from him, and knelt before her, face to face.
I drew close, but didn’t know what to do or say.
“Troth, hear me,” Bear said. “By all that’s holy, I swear by your gods and mine—by blessed Saint Bathild—we shall take care of you. Protect you. Do you understand me?”
Troth, sobbing, struggling for breath, and constantly smearing tears with dirty hands, looked