A woman then, but for what purpose did she buy undesirables?
“I pray…” Arblette’s voice caught, and he gripped his hands atop the table as if to address heaven here and now. “I pray the Lord forgives my grandsire and me for whatever parts we played in that woman’s ungodly schemes.”
The chill seeping into Elias became ice. He was not superstitious—rather, not foolishly so—but he knew there was evil in the world eager to manifest itself through weak men and women, whether they acted on behalf of the devil or in their own interest.
Arblette looked up from his white-knuckled hands. “Though in the beginning my grandsire thought her intentions good, that she provided for the babes as best she could, he began to suspect she was sent by the devil to claim his brood and those undesirables whose only sin was of being born of poverty and shame.”
He believed she gave the babes to the devil? How? Surely not through sacrifice.
Now it was Elias who addressed heaven. Lord, he silently prayed, not that. Heart pounding, he said, “What roused his suspicion?”
“Ever she denied him her name. Ever she kept her face hidden. Ever she appeared within hours of him marking the tree beneath which he was to leave the babe.”
“How was the tree marked?”
“As instructed, a rope tied around its trunk.”
Elias jutted his chin. “What else?”
“Were she not walking hand in hand with the devil, she would have to dwell near to daily pass that portion of the wood to see if the rope was present, and only once a month at most—more usual every other month—was the tree marked. And yet ever she appeared when summoned, and for all the babes given into her care over the years, there is no evidence of her or them in these parts.”
“You are saying no others have seen her?”
“Only my grandsire and I.”
Elias narrowed his eyes. “Once he suspected her intentions, why did he continue selling her babes?”
Arblette raised his palms in a gesture of apology. “Not being of a superstitious bent, I dissuaded him from such thinking. And when I began to believe as he did, I reminded myself—and him—the undesirables were destined for unconsecrated ground. Thus, already their souls were lost.” Moisture gathered in his eyes. “It was selfish, but her coin put more food in our bellies, clothed us better, and made the lean winters more bearable.”
Elias wondered how much he spoke in truth and how much was false. And hoped the latter was heavily weighted, that this was but an act to gain more coin. Not only did the life of the boy who might be his son depend on it, but the lives of other innocents.
“I would speak with your grandsire.”
Arblette blinked. “Did I not say?”
“What?”
“A slow sickness laid him abed two years past, and last year I put him in the ground, God have mercy on his soul.” He touched a hand to his heart. “Hence, the business is mine.”
“You call it a business?” Elias struggled to contain anger so sharp he hardly knew himself—he who preferred to laugh, tease, riddle, and arrange words pleasing to heart and soul.
Arblette grunted. “What else to call it, milord? A business it was, and a fair good one with coins from the wretched mothers one side and more coins from the unseen woman on the other side.”
“Was,” Elias snapped up the word. “’Tis no longer your business?”
Arblette winced. “Still I perform a much-needed service, but no longer do I take coin from the one who paid me better than the mothers.”
“Why? Have you now proof of those babes’ fate? Not mere suspicion?”
Arblette rubbed his temple as if pained. “The last time I delivered a babe to…” He trailed off. “Well, let us call her what she is—a witch. The last time I prayed for the Lord’s protection and followed her, and what I saw…”
“What?”
“I did not stay for it all. I could not, it grieved and frightened me so. But ’twas a most unholy ritual. She danced around a fire in the wood, chanted, and held the babe aloft as if in offering. I vowed then to never again summon her no matter how great my need for coin. And I have not these three months, though my purse can hardly be felt upon my belt.”
Elias continued to watch him closely for evidence he lied, well aware one of his own shortcomings was gullibility resulting from the need to believe the best of others, even when they were at their worst. It was the poet in him…the teller of tales…the composer of songs. But as for the actor, that side was of little use in determining if this man he hardly knew wore a face not his own.
“You think all the babes dead?” he asked.
“I do not. Though ’tis likely a great many have been consigned to the dirt, methinks some rove amongst us in search of good Christians to enlist in service to the devil.”
Vile superstition, but therein the possibility the babe, who would now be a boy, lived. A boy surely in need of a father.
Arblette leaned farther across the table. “Then there is the rumor of recent.” He moistened his lips. “Most unusual twins were born in our village a year past. Joined they were—here.” He tapped his chest. “Though sickly, I gave them into the care of the witch thinking they would be comforted as life left them. However, not long ago I heard talk such babes are being exploited by a troop of performers who charge to look upon the spectacle, and for it have been ordered by King Henry himself to leave England.”
“You believe the woman sold the babes?” Elias said through met teeth.
Arblette sighed. “I know not what to believe, but it makes one question if the babe I gave—”
“Sold!”
The man lowered his chin, nodded. “And now I wonder if ’tis a business for her as well and what other babes suffer that fate. If your son…” He fell silent, providing too much time in which to imagine Lettice’s babe exploited for his marked face.
Elias wished the man would look up so his emotions might be better read, but Arblette was slow to raise his chin, and when he did he immediately went behind his tankard and drained its contents.
“I must needs know more about the woman,” Elias said.
Arblette lowered his vessel, tapped the table. “As told, my business is not as lucrative as once it was.”
Holding back a curse, Elias removed two more coins and pushed them to the man who swept them into his palm.
“I know not her face.”
“As already told.”
“I know not her name.”
Elias glowered.
“I know not whence she hails.”
“But you know how to summon her to dispose of babes,” Elias growled.
“True, but do you recall, I vowed to never again do so no matter how much she offers.”
“She offers. What of my coin?”
Arblette raised his eyebrows, motioned to the serving girl. “All this talk makes me dry.”
Grudgingly, Elias waited as the knave’s vessel was refilled. This time Arblette pinched the girl, eliciting a squeal, and once more Elias commanded her to leave.