She was desperate for him to understand.
‘It were like losing Esmelie all over again. The grief doubled. There weren’t nothing left for me in Tormale after that so I went to the only place I could think of – to the mountains. I went home.’
The corners of her mouth trembled upwards through her tears.
‘That saved me. I came back to Silicia to find Pap dead and Tadrie’s cottage empty. He’d tried to sell it, but no one wanted somewhere so close to the forest. It still had my aunt’s things inside, dusty and musty. I scrubbed it and cleared the garden. Then villagers started knocking at the door, asking for cures – Silicia hadn’t had a healer since Tadrie – so I started mixing tonics and potions. I wanted to help people. I wanted to do some good after everything that had happened. And then I met you again …’
Maylie could still remember her first sight of Chrisanie as a young man. Kneeling on churned earth in the herb garden at the back of the cottage, her hands smeared with mud, she had heard footsteps. Looking up, she had seen a tall, slight figure, the summersun shining behind him through his dark, fine hair. ‘I’ve come to the Healer for a cure,’ he had said. Then a shy smile had split his lips as he had added, ‘Hello again, May.’ And despite all the pain and shame inside her, Maylie had smiled back.
‘I’ve told you before I were heartbroken when you left,’ said Chrisanie. ‘Ever since I set eyes on you outside the Governor’s house when we were small, I’ve thought of no one else. I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d returned.’
Maylie sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘You made me feel like myself again,’ she said. ‘After we got wed, I tried to forget about the past, but I couldn’t. I were scared when I fell pregnant with Gredie that I’d feel bad again. I didn’t think I deserved another baby. And it were still hard, of course – do you remember how little Gredie slept?’
Chrisanie chuckled and nodded.
‘But it were different. I were older for a start, and I had you.’ Maylie took her husband’s hand and squeezed his fingers. ‘Looking back now, I can see that the first baby – my daughter – were unwell. I thought I were doing everything wrong, but now I know it just happens that way sometimes. It were a difficult birth and we were both damaged. Perhaps if I’d just waited a few more days, it would’ve all been different …’
‘’Tis no use thinking like that, May.’
He was right. Maylie let out a shaky breath.
‘How did we never hear that Esmelie was a Maiden Sacrifice?’ asked Chrisanie.
‘She used a different last name in Tormale – pretending that she and Ravie were wed. They thought the Governor might come after them if they didn’t. It were Esmelie Drucelli who were the Maiden Sacrifice that spring, not Esmelie Tuchi. You would’ve heard thename, I imagine, but you wouldn’t have known it were my sister. Esmelie is a common Mountain name, after all.’
Chrisanie nodded sadly; then, after a pause, he asked, ‘Who were your child’s pap, May? Why weren’t he there to help you? He left you all on your own.’
A hot rush of shame flooded Maylie’s body. She let go of Chrisanie’s hand.
‘May?’
She knew she must say it. She dug her fingernails into her palms until they stung.
‘Ravie,’ she whispered.
Shock flickered over Chrisanie’s face before he quickly settled his expression.
‘I know,’ Maylie added. ‘’Tis terrible.’
‘How … how did that happen?’
‘I don’t know. It were a mistake after Esmelie were gone. An awful mistake.’
Everything in Maylie recoiled from the memory. Snippets would sometimes flash into her head unbidden if she was alone with a quiet mind, catching her unawares. They sickened her with their vividness. Normally she would try to chase them away with tasks and chores, but now she let them come:
A figure stumbling into the shack at night, reeking of ale, shouting for Esmelie.
Herself, standing, sobbing, shaking her head.
Two hands grasping her shoulders, clutching at her hair, calling her Esmelie.
A mouth pressed against her own.
Fingers untying her dress.
Her pain and sorrow too much to stop what was happening.
A body pressed against her.
