24
There was no way that Callie’s legs could keep up with Talis’s long legs as the two of them ran back to the farmhouse. She half ran out of one shoe, and her hair came untied from its neat braid as she leaped over hedges, dodged three bleating sheep, and tried to follow Talis.
What she saw when she arrived made her halt. The yard was full of big men, richly dressed, their horses’ great hooves trampling Meg’s flowers. The men were all staring down at a man on the ground; Callie could only see his legs, but from the stillness of them, he looked to be dead. Standing to one side, Meg and Will clung to each other and there was fear on Meg’s face.
Callie may have hesitated to run into the midst of the dozen or so men standing about, but not so Talis. He plunged into the midst of them, and in spite of his rough clothes, he looked as though he were one of the noblemen.
Callie didn’t think of hesitating when it came to following Talis. Within a breath, she was behind him, taking advantage of the space he made for himself between the silent, staring men.
Peeping out around him, Callie saw a man on the ground, a handsome man with steel gray hair, but now his once-handsome face was blue from lack of air. On the lower half of his face, around his mouth and down his throat, were bloody scratches from where he and others had clawed at him. It didn’t take a great deal of intelligence to figure out what had happened, since a half-eaten apple lay near the man’s head. He had taken too big a bite, a piece of apple had lodged in his throat and he had choked to death. All attempts to save him had failed, and now all the stunned people could do was look down at this man as he lay dead.
Talis didn’t even look to see if Callie had caught up with him; he knew she was there. “Tildy,” he said, and immediately, Callie knew what he had in mind.
At first no one noticed the tall young man with the pale girl peering around him. But Talis’s quick movements drew their attention.
Before anyone could recover from shock, Talis lifted Callie by the waist, her legs extended straight out, picked her up over his head, then dropped her—straight onto the stomach of the dead man.
Shouts erupted in anger over this hideous disrespect of the dead man. But even as the men started to shout at Talis and tried to grab the girl the boy was protecting with his body, others saw that the mouth of the “dead” man opened and out flew a huge, unchewed piece of apple.
“Quiet!” bellowed a man who obviously had some authority and they all turned to look down at the man on the ground.
Talis had more of an idea of what was going to happen than the others did, so he shoved his way through the hovering men, Callie in front of him, and looked down to see the eyelashes of the man flutter.
Seconds later, with the help of his men, the man was coughing and sitting upright.
Quietly, Talis ushered Callie away from the crowd that was now reviving the almost-dead man.
“How?” was all that Nigel could say, and in his eyes was his renewed suspicion that Talis and Callie were strange people.
“Magic,” Talis said, as always, enjoying Nigel’s skeptical looks.
“Magic, ha!” Callie said. “Once he fell out of a tree right onto Tildy,” she said, referring to one of the milk cows. “He hit her so hard, her cud went flying across the field. We just did the same thing to that man.”
Nigel was impressed that Talis had been able to apply such knowledge to the present emergency, but he did not say so. In his opinion, Talis was already too proud of himself and didn’t need more praise.
It was Callie who noticed that Meg and Will were still standing to one side, their arms wrapped about each other, their faces pale. Callie could understand why they had been so frightened. She had heard of the anger of some lords of the manor being used against poor farmers. What would have happened if this rich man had died on their land? Would his relatives have blamed them for his death?
But why were Meg and Will still upset now that they knew the man was not going to die? Talis had saved the man’s life. Perhaps now there would be a reward.
As she was looking at Meg and Will, Talis was asking questions of Nigel about the men who were overrunning the small yard.
“They stopped here to buy cider,” Nigel was saying. “This year’s apple crop failed for the man and he was told that Will had good cider, so he thought to buy some. He wanted to taste an apple. It was all so simple. Will handed him an apple, he took a bite, then Meg came out of the house and the man looked as though he had seen a ghost.”
Nigel frowned. “The man was still on his horse and when he saw Meg, he seemed to suck in air, the horse reared and the next moment he was choking to death. There were many attempts to save him but the apple piece was lodged deep in his throat. By the time the men could get him off his horse he was already…dead.” As he said this he looked askance at Talis, as though he were a witch who had brought a dead man back to life.
“He was not dead, as you can hear,” Talis said, unconcerned with Nigel’s suspicious looks. To their left, they could hear the coughing and hacking of the man. Since he was surrounded by guarding knights, they could not see him, but they could hear him well enough.
“Who is he?” Callie asked, still watching Meg and Will. There were silent tears running down Meg’s cheeks and Will was doing his best to comfort her, but he too looked shaken. Callie wanted to go to them, but she had an idea that they would tell her nothing. She had long been aware that Meg and Will had secrets that they told no one. One of the requirements of being a storyteller was watching people and looking for answers to questions. Callie had already found out that all people have secrets.
“I have not heard of him,” Nigel said. “His name is Lord John Hadley, the third son of an earl. I believe his title is one of courtesy. He married well,” Nigel informed them, letting them know that Lord John was not of the highest rank in the aristocracy. “The men say he has never traveled this way before.” He gave an odd look at Callie. “They say he had a dream that told him to travel this way.”
Before Callie could say a word, the men near them parted, making an opening to Lord John, who was now standing with the support of two men.
“His lordship wants to see you,” said a handsome man dressed in a long velvet robe, his hair hanging to his shoulders. Part of his manner said he wanted nothing to do with these peasant brats, but a part of him seemed to say that he was grateful. Still lingering behind his eyes was grief at what he’d almost lost, for Hugh Kellon genuinely loved his master.
John Hadley had no such ambiguity. There was no doubt in his mind that he had been dead. He had been able to look down on his own dead body, see the bloody marks on his neck where he had clawed his own throat. He had seen his men bent over him. And as he was floating away, John had felt only relief to at last leave a world that had given him no happiness. He had never been given what he most wanted in life and his many days on earth had been full of a sense of loss.
Seeing that woman today is what had made him so acutely aware of his loss. It was as though he had been transported back into time to the day that had been the happiest of his life. That night he had at last obtained the healthy son he so much wanted.