Chapter 20: Atonement

Petulant, angry, and sullen, Wickham was as unpleasant a travelling companion as Elizabeth could have ever conceived. Gone was his easy charm and endless chatter. He reminded Elizabeth, ironically, of Lydia when she didn't get her own way.

"I am sorry that you became entangled in all of this," Elizabeth said, in attempt to mollify Wickham.

"No, you're not," Wickham responded dourly. "As if you care about anything other than marrying Darcy and keeping Lydia alive, not necessarily in that order."

Elizabeth sighed. "I care about slaying Querig, restoring the memory of everyone who lives in these parts, and facing those consequences, whatever they may be." When she was not greeted with a response, Elizabeth spoke further. "I had a younger sister, Mary. She died in the war. As did my mother. I have some memory of Mary's death, but none of my mother. Darcy had to remind me of both. Perhaps…when my memory is restored, I hope I shall be able to honour the dead as they deserve. I understand that your family, as Saxons, must have been pagan, but I would be honoured to pay respect to them alongside my own family."

Wickham looked at her then, with more feeling and less hostility. He spoke softly. "I need to go back. I have to pay my respects to Georgiana. She was a girl, naïve and childish…I never dreamt that she would feel hurt or…it was beyond my imagination. I need this pardon, I need to go back to offer my prayers. I need my Gods to forgive me that sin, that one sin which I never planned but now cannot absolve myself of."

"I am sorry, Sir, for this burden you carry. I know that you have vowed to hate all – "

"Look!" Wickham interrupted her. "Is that…a goat?"

The little stone cottage was easy to miss, hidden within a pocket of shadow at the foot of a looming cliff, and even with Wickham pointing at it, Elizabeth first mistook it for the entrance to a settlement dug deep into the mountainside. Only as they came closer did she realise it was an isolated structure, the walls and roof alike built from shards of dark grey rock. Water was falling from high above in a fine thread just in front of the cliffside, to collect in a pool not far from the cottage and trickle away where the land dipped out of view.

A little way before the cottage, just now brightly illuminated by the sun, was a small fenced paddock, the sole occupant of which was a goat. The goat was eating over in its enclosure, a muddy upturned bucket near its feet, but broke off to stare in astonishment at Elizabeth and Wickham.

"Wickham, I believe I see children."

The children had remained unaware of their approach. A girl and her two younger brothers were standing at the edge of a ditch, their backs to their visitors, preoccupied with something beneath their feet. Once, one of the small boys crouched down to throw something into the ditch, provoking the girl to pull him back by the arm.

"What can they be doing?" Elizabeth wondered aloud.

"Mischief by the look of it, and the youngest of them still small enough to tumble in without meaning to," Wickham replied. "Are children known to be or do anything but mischief?"

When they had gone past the goat and the children still were unaware of them, Elizabeth called out as gently as she could, "God be with you," causing all three to spin round in alarm.

Their guilty countenances supported Wickham's notion that they had been up to no good, but the girl - a head taller than the two boys - recovered quickly and smiled.

"Elders! You're welcome! We prayed to God only last night to send you and here you've come to us! Welcome, welcome!" She came splashing over the marshy grass towards them, her brothers close behind.

"You mistake us," Wickham said. "My sister and I are just two lost travellers, cold and weary, and not old enough to be your parents, let alone Elders. Would you call your mother or father to allow us to rest beside a fire, and perhaps a morsel to eat?"

"We're not mistaken, sir! We prayed to the God Jesus last night and now you've come! Please, Guests, go inside our house, where a fire's still burning."

"But where are your parents?" Elizabeth asked. "Weary as we are, we'd not intrude, and so wait for the lady or master of the house to call us through the door."

"It's just us three now, Miss, so you can call me lady of the house! Please go inside and warm yourselves. You'll find food in the sack hanging from the beam, and there's wood beside the fire to add. Go inside, Guests, and we'll not disturb your rest for a while yet, for we must see to the goat."

"We accept your kindness gratefully," Wickham said. "But tell us if the nearest village is far from here."

A shadow crossed the girl's face, and she exchanged looks with her brothers, now lined up beside her. Then she smiled again and spoke.

Wickham glanced surreptitiously at Elizabeth, making sure she was noting the change in the girl's expressions.

"We're very high in the mountains here, Sir. It's far to any village, so we'd ask you to stay here with us, and the warm fire and food we offer. You must be very weary, and I see how this wind makes you both shiver. So please, no more talk of going away. Go inside and rest, Guests, for we've waited for you so long!"

"Darcy mentioned being beset by pixies earlier," Elizabeth whispered to Wickham. "I am suspicious of their eagerness."

Wickham nodded languidly, looking about. "What is it so interests you in that ditch there?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh, it's nothing, Sir! Nothing at all! But here you're standing in this wind and you are shivering!"

As it happened, Elizabeth was indeed cold, but Wickham had his chest puffed out, standing for all the world as if in a sunny field, and not a cold mountain. He was everything but shivering.

"Won't you accept our hospitality, and rest yourselves beside our fire? See how even now its smoke rises from the roof!"

"I'll wager that some mischief draws you to this ditch, and you are all three glancing back the way children do when they think some adult will discover and scold them," Wickham stated. "Now, you are all three children, and give me no cause to draw my sword. Moreover, I'm somewhat tired and would prefer to not be quarrelling about with children. So let us try this again, and I expect simple and honest answers. What's become of your people that they leave you alone like this?"

The girl exchanged glances with her brothers, who had taken up positions on either side of her. Then she said, a little hesitantly, "We manage by ourselves, Sir," and put an arm around each of the boys.

"And what is it down in that ditch draws you so?" Elizabeth asked, far more gentle than Wickham.

"It's just our goat, mistress. It was once our best goat, but it died."

"How did your goat come to die, child?" Elizabeth coaxed. "The other there looks well enough."

The children exchanged more glances, and a decision seemed to pass among them. "Go look if you will," the girl said, and letting go of her brothers, she stepped to one side.

Elizabeth fell in step beside Wickham as he went towards the ditch. Before they were halfway there, Wickham stopped and said in a whisper, "Let me go alone first."

"Do you think I never saw a dead goat before?"

"Assuming it to be a goat, and this not some pixie trick. Wait here a moment."

After giving Wickham some time to observe the ditch, Elizabeth asked "What is it?"

"See if you wish. It's no sight to raise your spirits. Some poor ogre, I'd suppose, dying a slow death, and maybe these children have foolishly thrown it a goat, thinking it might recover itself with eating."

Elizabeth walked over. The ditch was as deep as a man's height. The sun, now shining almost directly into it, should have made it easier to discern what was before her, but instead created confusing shadows. The goat appeared to have been of monstrous proportions, and now lay in several dismembered pieces. Over there, a hind leg; there the neck and head. It took a little longer to identify the soft upturned belly of the animal, because pressed into it was a giant hand emerging from the dark mud. Only then did she see that much of what initially she had taken to be of the dead goat belonged to a second creature entangled with it. That mound there was a shoulder; that a stiffened knee. Then she saw movement and realised the thing in the ditch was still alive.

"Good heavens, it's not dead!" Even as she spoke, a large hairless head revolved slowly in the slime, a gaping eye moving with it. Then the mud sucked greedily and the head vanished.

"We didn't feed the ogre," the girl's voice said behind them. "We know never to feed an ogre, but to bar ourselves inside at their coming. And so we did with this one, and we watched from our window while he pulled down our fence and took our best goat. Then he sat down just there, where you are now, his legs dangling over like he's an infant, and happily eating the goat raw, the way ogres will. We knew not to unbar the door, and the sun getting lower, and the ogre still eating our goat, but we could see he's getting weaker. Then at last he stands up, holding what's left of the goat, then he falls down, first to his knees, then onto his side. Next thing he rolls into the ditch, goat and all, and it's two days he's been down there and still not dead."

"Let's come away, child," Elizabeth said. "This is no sight for you or your brothers. But what is it made this poor ogre so sick? Can it be your goat was diseased?"

"Not diseased, Miss, poisoned! We'd been feeding it more than a full week just the way Bronwen taught us. Six times each day with the leaves."

"Why did you do such a thing?!" Elizabeth cried, and at the same time, Wickham asked "Who is Bronwen?"

The girl looked at them in confusion.

"Who is Bronwen?" Wickham repeated.

"The old witch woman who comes hereabouts now and then. We don't like her, but she never lies."

"And now to Elizabeth's question, which was, why would you poison your best goat?"

"Why, Sir, to make the goat poisonous for the she-dragon. This poor ogre wasn't to know that and so he poisoned himself. But it's not our fault, Sir, because he shouldn't have been marauding the way he was!"

"Are you saying you fed the goat deliberately to fill it with poison?" Elizabeth asked.

"Poison for the she-dragon, Miss, but Bronwen said it wouldn't harm any of us. So how could we know the poison might harm an ogre? We weren't to blame, Miss, and meant no wickedness!"

"No one will ever blame you, child. Yet tell us, why were you wishing to prepare poison for Querig, for I take it this is the she-dragon you talk of?"

"Oh, Miss! We said our prayers morning and night and often in the day too. And when you came just now, we knew God had sent you. So please say you'll help us, for we're just poor children forgotten by our parents! Will you take that goat there, the only one left to us now, and go with it up that path to the giant's cairn? It's an easy walk, Miss, less than half a day there and back, and I'd do it myself but can't leave these young ones alone. We've fed that goat just the way we did the one eaten by the ogre, and this with three more days' leaves in it. If only you'd take it to the giant's cairn and leave it tethered there for the she-dragon, Miss, and it's but an easy stroll. Please say you'll do it, guests, for we're fearing nothing else will bring our beloved parents back to us."

"What's to be done to bring your parents back to you?"

"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Wickham whispered to her. "Their parents are dead, like almost everyone else in these parts, killed by a dragon, or soldiers, or dragon vermin, or magic."

The girl, oblivious to Wickham, answered Elizabeth. "Didn't we just tell you, Miss? If you'd only take the goat up to the giant's cairn, where it's well known food's regularly left for the she-dragon. Then who knows, she'll perish the same way that poor ogre has, and he was a strong-looking one before his meal! We'd always been afraid before of Bronwen because of her wise arts, but when she saw we were here alone, forgotten by our own parents, she took pity on us. So please help us, elders, for who knows when anyone else will come this way? We're afraid to show ourselves to soldiers or strange men who pass, but you're the ones we prayed for to the God Jesus."

"But what is it young children like you can know of this world," asked Elizabeth, "that you believe a poisonous goat will bring your parents back to you?"

"And, if Jesus were to send any person your way, I assure you Jesus would not have picked me," Wickham added.

"It's what Bronwen told us, Guests, and though she's a terrible old woman, she never lies. She said it's the she-dragon lives over us here made our parents forget us. And even though we often make our mother angry with our mischief, Bronwen says the day she remembers us again, she'll hurry back and hold us one by one like this." The girl suddenly clutched an invisible child to her breast, her eyes closing, and rocked gently for a moment.

Then opening her eyes again, she went on "But for now the she-dragon's cast some spell to make our parents forget us, so they'll not come home. Bronwen says the she-dragon's a curse not just to us but to everyone and the sooner she perishes the better. So we worked hard, sir, feeding both goats exactly as she said, six times each day. Please do as we ask, or we won't ever see our mother and father again. All we ask is you tether the goat at the giant's cairn then go your way."

Elizabeth started to speak, but Wickham said over her quickly "I'm sorry, child. We wish we could help you, but to climb higher into these hills is now beyond us. We're weary from days of hard travel, as is our horse. We've no choice but to hurry on our way before further misfortune takes us."

"But, Sir, it was God himself sent you to us! And it's but a short stroll, and not even a steep path from here. Please don't punish us for poisoning the ogre! We didn't know! Please, please help us sir!"

Wickham seemed to enjoy the begging, but he soon turned to Elizabeth. "What do you think, should we add a goat to our horse? Though, it is hard to believe that these idiot children will somehow lead us to Querig."

"I don't think they are foolish, simply young and afraid. But they followed the advice of a local witch, who says what every learned person has said so far; that Querig resides here and it is her breath making us all forget. That cannot be a lie, even Darcy and Father Jonus said it!"

"Yes, but do you believe that this old witch knows where Querig lives? That it's a short half day's stroll from here? That is too good to be true."

"But is it really beyond us to do as they ask? Let's not hasten away carelessly."

"The longer we whisper, the longer we taunt their hopes," Wickham said, showing for the first time some empathy for the children.

"But think on what it is they ask, Wickham." Elizabeth paced shortly, before returning. "Will a chance like this ever come our way again? Think on it! We stumble to this spot so near Querig's lair. And these children offer a poisonous goat by which even the two of us, you with naught but a sword and I with nothing at all, might bring down the she-dragon! Think on it, Wickham! If Querig falls, the fog will fast begin to clear. You will have your pardon. Who's to say those children aren't right and God himself didn't bring us this way?"

Wickham remained silent for a moment. "There's no telling that goat will bring any harm at all to Querig," he said eventually. "A hapless ogre's one thing. This she-dragon's a creature to scatter an army."

"These children have provided to us, right or wrong, our only lead to Querig. We may as well take it. And if we take it, what harm is there in taking the goat along with us? We lose nothing for trying. The children are right. You and Darcy have been saying ever since that Querig would not be alive were it not for some locals and probably those monks feeding her. This could as likely be her lair as it is not."

Wickham sighed loudly, and then turned to the children. "We shall make use of the fire and the food you offered us, as my sister and I are hungry and weary of travel. After we are well rested, tomorrow morning, we shall take your goat, and you shall tell us exactly how to find the giant's cairn."