Cassandra was much better the next day, though Eve and Flynn were firm in that she do no strenuous chores around the Parsonage, and that she take regular naps during the next few days until she was fully recovered. Jenkins went back to the Physician's House to see to his duties as the village's doctor, but only after Cassandra sternly ordered her reluctant Companion to go, if only for the sake of appearances.
Two days later there was a knock on the door of the Physician's House. Jenkins hurried to answer it, expecting it was a patient. He was surprised to find Goodwife Eve Carsen standing on the other side of the door.
"Jenkins. Good morning; may I have a word with you, please?"
"Eve!" he exclaimed, puzzled, but stood aside. "Is Cassandra all right?" Despite the serious nature of her visit, she couldn't help but smile to herself at his concern for his mistress. Eve swept past him and he closed the door. He then turned to her with a wary expression on his face. "Is…is she ill…?"
"What are you?" the tall woman demanded pointblank, ignoring his questions as she spun around to meet his guarded gaze. His eyes narrowed.
"What am I?" he echoed, perplexed, "I do not understand—"
"You are no Companion!" she nearly hissed as she quickly moved so that she was now standing directly in front of him, staring up, almost challenging him. "You used magic! I heard you admit it the other evening!" His expression communicated as clearly as words that he thought the woman had lost her mind.
"Really, Eve—I have no idea what you are talking about!" he answered flatly. He started to brush by her in dismissal, but she grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around again.
"Companions—real Companions—do not possess that kind of magic!" she went on, undeterred, "You are not a Companion, and I am not leaving here until you tell me the truth about yourself!" But Jenkins only stared back, uncomprehending.
"You…you do not possess magic?" he asked, his tone now one of genuine bafflement. Eve narrowed her eyes.
"Not the sort that allows me to transmute matter," she answered, "As I said, Companions do not possess that kind of magic! We possess the knowledge so that we can help our witches, but we cannot use it ourselves. Were we able, it might prove too tempting to some Companions to use it against their witches." She stepped even closer to him, her blue eyes flashing. "So how is it that you do?" The tall man shrugged his shoulders.
"I do not know," he said, somewhat defensive, "I was summoned from the Void, I was sent here by the One to be Cassandra's Companion. That is all I know." Eve's head tilted, suspicious, as she closely watched him. Jenkins appeared to be sincerely confused by her questions. She pressed her lips together and crossed her arms as she thought for a moment.
"Do you remember anything from before you were summoned?" she asked. Jenkins again shrugged.
"Nothing; you know this," he answered, becoming testy at her interrogation. "No Companion ever remembers very much of their previous incarnations!" Eve tapped her foot softly as she considered his answer.
"You know about the Primordii," she stated more than asked. Jenkins gave her a surprised look at the unexpected question.
"Of course I do!"
"I think that you are a Primordius."
Jenkins's heart skipped a beat at her near accusatory tone. The Primordii were ancient spirits, powerful spirits, dangerous spirits that had once ruled on this plain of existence for millennia. All but a very few had disappeared eons ago, but how or what happened to reduce their numbers so drastically was lost in the mists of Time. There were many and varying legends to explain their sudden disappearance, the most popular in the Void being that the One had decimated their numbers as punishment for their cruelty and their hubris. Of the few that the One had allowed to remain, no one knew much more about them except that they did exist, both on this plane of existence and within the Void itself. For Eve to accuse Jenkins of being one of these spirits was shocking, however, to say the least.
"I think you are wrong," Jenkins countered coolly, "The fact that I possess and can use some magic does not automatically make me a Primordius." He waved a hand airily as he spoke. "Besides, a Primordius could never humble itself enough to act as a mere Companion to a witch! It would never be able submit itself to the authority of a simple human!"
Eve had no answer to this argument. The Primordii were, indeed, said to have been supremely arrogant beings; they had once reigned over this world as literal gods; they would naturally be loath to subject themselves to the very creatures they once ruled. The woman took a breath and sighed softly.
"Perhaps you are right," she conceded, though reluctantly, "But I would still like to know how it is that a Companion has been gifted with your level of magic!"
"Perhaps the answer is as simple as the One deciding that Cassandra needed such a Companion," Jenkins offered with a small shrug. "However, if I was a Primordius, surely I would know it, would I not?"
"If the One allowed you to remember it!" Eve couldn't keep herself from throwing that retort in his face; in return she received a most satisfying glare from the old man. She allowed herself to smile briefly at the small mischief she had caused, but then turned serious again. "I do not want to see Cassandra hurt in any way. She has suffered enough already in this world," she said.
"Nor do I!" Jenkins vehemently declared at once. He looked down and began to fuss with the sleeve of his doublet. "I… I love Cassandra, very much. Primordius or no, I would never hurt her!" Eve heard the truth of his words in his voice and, finally, she relented.
"I believe you," she said, going to him and laying her hand on his arm. Her touch was friendly, but her gaze was cool with warning as she ducked her head to look up into his dark eyes.
"But know this: Flynn and I love Cassandra, too. If you have lied to me, if you do harm Cassandra in any way, Primordius or not you will answer to me for it, even if I am not her Companion!" Jenkins raised his head, his gaze meeting hers without so much as a blink.
"I would expect nothing less of you, Eve Carsen."
Cassandra quickly recovered her strength as the dark winter dragged on. Ever since their confessions to one another on the night Cassandra turned the pea into a pearl, Jenkins found himself even more reluctant to be apart from her, as if their simple professions of love had already begun the magical binding of their spirits. Despite the distress being apart caused them both, Jenkins nonetheless confined himself to the Physician's House while Cassandra continued to spend her nights with the Carsens.
Still uneasy about his ability to use magic, Eve continued to quietly watch Jenkins closely. But, to her relief, she saw nothing in his interactions with Cassandra that so much as hinted at anything but his absolute devotion and loyalty to the young sorceress. The blonde Companion eventually relaxed her vigil and welcomed him as her friend's chosen and accepted Companion.
Fortunately for Cassandra, winter was the slowest season of the year for her own work as a midwife. She had noted early on in her practice that most babies were made in wintertime; her busy time would come next summer and fall, delivering all of those little ones being created right now in the long cold nights of winter. For the time being she was content to spend her free time assisting Jenkins during the day, by reading her father's texts on magic and taking instruction on it from her Companion and Reverend Carsen. She soaked up the information in the books and the men's lectures like a dry sponge with water, but her lack of other more comprehensive books on the subject severely limited what she could learn and, hence, what she could do with her magic.
"This is the last book," Flynn Carsen announced regretfully one evening after supper as he handed it over to her eager hands. He looked up and met Cassandra's dismayed eyes with his own sympathetic ones. "I have no more of Samuel's books of magic hidden away. I am happy to teach everything that I know, but I fear even that will not be sufficient for you. I am not a sorcerer; their knowledge is far more arcane and esoteric than that of a humble witch."
"She needs to go back to Europe," Eve commented, scraping a wooden spoon against the pewter plate in her hand as she collected the scraps of the evening's meal. "She needs to be taught by a proper sorcerer." Cassandra's eyes widened at the idea.
"Europe?" she gasped, her heart beginning to thud within her, and her eyes darted between the two troubled faces. "But...that is so far away! And I know no one in Europe! Everyone I have ever known and loved is here, in New England!" She felt tears coning to her eyes at the mere thought of leaving the Carsens behind. "You are here, in New England, you and Flynn. My parents…" Eve dropped the spoon and leaned across the table, took the younger woman's hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
"It would be difficult," the Companion agreed sadly, yet unwavering. "But a sorceress must be properly trained, else she will end up doing more harm than good with her gift." She nodded in the vague direction of the Physician's House. "Besides, you will not be completely alone; Jenkins will be with you." Cassandra looked at her in surprise.
"He will?" she asked, the relief clear in her voice. Eve and Flynn exchanged amused glances before Eve turned back to Cassandra and smiled.
"Of course!" she assured the anxious woman, "He is your Companion; wherever you go, he will always be at your side."
"They must be Bound first, and soon!" Flynn cut in solemnly, glancing anxiously between the two women. "It has been put off for too long already." He turned to look directly at Cassandra. "Do you still want Jenkins as your Companion? It is not too late to send him back to the Void and summon another if you are having doubts..."
"No!" Cassandra yelped, horrified, "I want Jenkins; none other!"
"Then we must set a date for the Ritual of Binding," Eve interjected urgently. "Flynn is right—we have waited far longer than is necessary. As long as you and Jenkins remain un-Bound, there is a limit as to what he can do for you; being un-Bound leaves you vulnerable!" Cassandra dropped her gaze.
"I know," she answered quietly, "I want to Bind with Jenkins, truly I do. But...it is just that..." Her voice trailed off and her cheeks blushed faintly as she cast a furtive glance toward Flynn. Eve stood up at once and began gathering up the empty plates on the table.
"Cassandra, please gather up the rest of the supper things and bring them into the kitchen," Eve instructed crisply. Then, without waiting for an answer from the surprised redhead, she turned to her husband. "Flynn, I think you should go and see to the horses and the chickens." Flynn blinked at her, confused.
"I have already seen to th—"
"Then go and see to them again!" she said, slowly and deliberately, fixing him with a pointed stare with her ice-blue eyes. When understanding finally dawned on him, Flynn swallowed and jumped up from his chair.
"Yes, of course, of course!" he exclaimed, then he turned and headed for the door, snatching his cloak and hat off the peg. He nearly slammed the heavy wooden door into his own face in his haste to get outside and away from the women and the discussion they were about to have. When he was gone, Eve dropped back into her chair at the dinner table, dirty dishes forgotten as she leaned forward.
"You still fear the Ritual of Binding," she said flatly. Cassandra paused for a moment, then began nodding her head as she slowly sank back onto her own chair. Eve pulled herself up straight and drew in a deep breath as she studied the young woman across the table.
"What are you afraid of, exactly?" she asked, her voice softer now, more motherly. Cassandra's face turned red and she looked as if she wished the chair would swallow her up. Eve rose and picked up her chair, carried it to the side of the table Cassandra was on and set it down next to her. As she reseated herself, she put her hand out to take Cassandra's and gently coaxed the troubled woman to turn so that they faced each other.
"Do you still fear Jenkins will hurt you?" she asked gently. She saw rather than heard the young sorceress take a breath before she finally spoke, her eyes still lowered.
"When I am helping a woman deliver her baby, I...I sometimes hear certain of the older women of the village talk. They sometimes laugh and mock a laboring woman, tell her she is only paying now for the few moments of pleasure she had with her husband and asking if the terrible pain was worth it." Cassandra paused, her nose crinkling in distaste at the memories of those cruel women. How could they be so cold and unfeeling to another woman who was suffering so? She shook her head and refocused on the present conversation with Eve.
"I have also heard them say that when a man...when a man enters a woman for the first time that there is...there is..."
"Pain?" Eve prompted softly. Cassandra nodded, then looked up at her with apprehensive eyes.
"Pain, yes...and...and...blood!" The final word was whispered, and Cassandra glanced at the door as if Flynn might overhear. She then looked back at Eve with round eyes. "They say that, like the pain a woman feels in labor, it is part of God's curse upon women for the sin of Eve in the Garden of Eden!"
Eve's face grew hard. These stupid people and their accursed superstitions! she thought angrily, but she shoved aside her irritation before speaking again.
"It is no curse, Cassandra," she said steadily, her eyes looking directly into Cassandra's. "It is simply the way human female bodies are made." She tried to think of a way to explain the anatomy of said human female bodies—no small feat when speaking with a woman who had been brought up her entire life to believe that nearly all normal bodily functions were somehow cursed or evil, especially those of the women. Being the daughter of a doctor, however, mitigated some of that awkwardness for Cassandra and so, unable to find more "suitable" language, and the Companion opted for direct, plain words.
"The very first time a female shares her body with a male, there is the possibility of some pain, and yes, there is sometimes some blood," she began to explain, "But the pain does not last; some women do not even have any pain. And there is not very much blood at all, really, only a small bit for most women. It is most certainly not a curse, though, for any woman. It is only a thin scrap of tissue inside of you that is being torn, so to speak, that causes the pain and the bleeding, nothing more. It happens only once, the very first time." She could see the tension in Cassandra's body ease a bit, and there was interest in her eyes now in place of the fear.
"Will Jenkins be in pain, too?" she asked, "Will he also bleed?" A wry look came to the older woman's face.
"No, I am afraid not," she answered tartly, "It is only to the women that these things happen." The look of panic and fear returned at once to Cassandra's eyes.
"Then it is a—!"
"It is not a curse!" Eve cut in snappishly, and took the redhead's face between her hands so she could look straight into Cassandra's blue eyes. "Do not even think that! It is not a curse!" Cassandra still did not look convinced.
"Repeat it after me!" Eve ordered sharply, shaking the younger woman's head slightly. "It is not a curse! Say it!"
"It...it is not...a curse," Cassandra answered weakly.
"Again! It is not a curse!"
"I-it is not a-a curse."
"Again! Louder!"
"It is not a curse."
Eve let go of Cassandra and leaned back. "Louder!"
"It is not a curse!"
"Once more! Louder!" Cassandra took a deep lungful of air.
"IT IS NOT A CURSE!" she bellowed. Eve clapped her hands and smiled.
"How does that feel?" she asked. There was a glow in Cassandra's eyes now.
"I feel...good!" she said, slightly breathless. "I feel...lighter somehow!"
"Excellent!" Eve exclaimed. She took Cassandra's face between her hands again and leaned forward to touch her forehead to Cassandra's. "That light feeling you are experiencing right now is called 'freedom', and the more you learn about yourself and about being a sorceress, the more deeply you will feel it. I am proud of you, Cassandra!" Eve sat up and lowered her hands again. "If you ever begin to think that old way again, that you are under some sort of curse or punishment from your god for simply being what you are, I want you to repeat that phrase again and again until that feeling is gone!" Eve leaned forward again slightly, her eyes intent. "It is not a curse to be a woman!"
"It is not a curse!" Cassandra repeated, this time with gusto. Eve nodded her approval.
"Thank you for this, Eve," Cassandra said more quietly, "It helps, but I am still worried, though..."
"About Jenkins?" Eve prompted. Cassandra hesitated, then plunged ahead.
"I still worry that Jenkins is...too…big," she confessed, clearly uncomfortable. Eve understood at once what Cassandra was saying. She almost laughed, but the real anxiety in the young woman's eyes dissolved any amusement she felt at the situation. Instead, she reached out to take Cassandra's hands in hers.
"You are still afraid that he will not fit, and that that is what will cause you a great deal of pain and will make you bleed, that he will physically injure you," she said plainly, but with kindness in her voice. Cassandra nodded, and Eve squeezed her fingers in reassurance.
"Cassandra, I promise you that he will fit just fine, and you will not experience any more pain than any other woman would," she said in her most sympathetic voice. Cassandra sighed heavily.
"Yes, that is what Jenkins says, too." Eve blinked and did a double-take.
"You have already spoken of this with Jenkins?" she nearly squawked in surprise. Cassandra gave her shy smile.
"Only a little, yes," she admitted, "But..." She gave Eve an uneasy look before finally blurting. "You have not seen him naked, Eve! I have! I have seen his…you know!" Eve blinked, stunned by the unexpected revelation.
"You have?" she asked, not knowing what else to say, and Cassandra nodded.
"I almost walked in on him while he was bathing in the kitchen of the Physician's House one evening," she hurried to explain.
The vivid memory flooded back into her brain of the night she had stopped by the Physician's House on her way home from the market to drop off items she had purchased for the Companion's medicines. It was late, and she meant only to slip in and then out again without disturbing Jenkins. She went around to the back of the house to use the kitchen door, but when she went inside she was stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the Companion completely naked, his back toward her as he stood in a tub of hot, steaming water before the fireplace, his attention entirely focused on bathing.
Cassandra had thrown herself into the shadows of the pantry and then, frozen in place she could only stare, enthralled, at the sight of the tall man's wet body in the dim candlelight of the kitchen—the muscles of his broad back, his long lean thighs and calves rippling seductively beneath his glistening skin as he moved. Her cheeks now turned suddenly warm as she remembered the firm, gleaming curves of his buttocks.
"He was just standing there in that tub, naked as a newly-born babe! I know it was wrong of me to spy—I should have left or at least made my presence known, but before I could do anything he turned around and…I…I saw...it!"
From her place by the door her hands had flown up to stifle a shriek of astonishment as she stared in a mix of shock, curiosity, shame—and another feeling that she had no word to describe. His smooth muscular chest, his narrow hips, his powerful arms were stunning enough. But his manhood—that great, dangling appendage that reminded her of a stud stallion in heat...
She was only able to tear her eyes off of him when he stepped out of the tub and started crossing the kitchen towards the door that led into the rest of the house as he dried his body with a cloth on his way to his bedroom. The moment she heard the door close, she turned and dropped her packages, jerked open the kitchen door and fled the house as quickly and as quietly as she could.
"He is just so...huge!" Cassandra almost whispered in her distress. Eve took a moment to bite back a smile and tried to think of a way to reassure the younger woman that everything would be fine. Suddenly, an idea came to her; if the Puritans could twist someone's thinking with their nonsense, perhaps she could twist Cassandra's thinking back with a little nonsense of her own?
"Has Jenkins not told you about the magic that a Companion possesses?" she asked, her tone low and confidential. Cassandra looked up and shook her head slowly.
"No, I do not remember him saying anything about a Companion's magic...except when he turned the button into coins."
"I am not surprised, really," Eve replied, "It is a guarded secret amongst our kind." The curiosity came back to the sorceress's eyes.
"What kind of magic do Companions possess?" she asked, eager to learn something new, especially if it related to Jenkins. Eve waved a careless hand.
"It is not much, really," she answered, "Especially when it is compared to the magic a witch or a sorceress possesses." Hooked, Cassandra leaned forward.
"What is the magic? Can you tell me?" she persisted, and a shadow of fear passed over her face. "Or will you be punished for sharing—" Eve cut her off before Cassandra talked herself out of hearing anything more.
"Companions know how frightening the Ritual of Binding can be for humans," Eve blurted in a rush of words, "Especially for human females who have Companions in male form." She paused and got herself under control again before continuing in a conspiratorial whisper. "Companions possess a special kind of magic—sex magic." Cassandra squeaked softly and sat bolt upright in her chair.
"But...a good kind of sex magic, not any bad kind!" Eve hurried on, "Companions can make the Ritual of Binding much more...pleasant for the human, much more...enjoyable." Cassandra still didn't look convinced, but she no longer looked completely terrified, either. In fact, she looked rather guilty, and a thought suddenly came to the Companion. She tilted her head to give the young woman a sideways look.
"Perhaps Jenkins has already been working some of his sex magic on you, when the two of you are alone?" There! Cassandra's cheeks immediately turned pink and she dropped her head, struggling to keep herself from giggling. So! That old he-goat had been working some "magic" already on his sorceress!
"A little bit, perhaps," Cassandra confessed, a definite note of giddiness in her voice now.
"Do you like it when he does that?" Eve asked. Cassandra looked up, her eyes glowing.
"Oh, yes!" she fervently answered at once, long pent up words spilling from her lips. "He makes me feel so...so...strange inside—like...I am doing something wrong, that I am feeling something that I should not be feeling and that if anyone in the village knew about it that I would be punished with the stocks for having such wicked thoughts...but at the same time I do not care because it feels so…so…wonderful!" She lowered her eyes and smiled sheepishly. "In truth, I sometimes wish that feeling could go on forever!"
Eve leaned forward and wrapped her arms around the young witch, pulled her into a hug. It was very good news to hear that Cassandra truly liked Jenkins so much and wanted to be with him. All that was lacking now was the Ritual of Binding itself to make things permanent.
"It can go on forever, dear heart," Eve murmured as Cassandra slipped her thin arms around Eve's waist and hugged her back. "And it will! Flynn and I shall see to it."
Very early the next morning before the sun had even cleared the rooftops and without even bothering with breakfast, Flynn Carsen, Eve, and Cassandra marched straight through the village to the Physician's House. As the head of his little "family", Flynn took the lead and knocked sharply on the door. A few seconds later it opened and Jenkins appeared, already fully-dressed and ready for the coming day. He looked surprised to see the minister on his doorstep so early, but when he spotted the sober-faced Eve and the bashful Cassandra Cillian standing behind him, the surprise quickly turned to incomprehension.
"Reverend Carsen," he greeted, perplexed. His dark brown eyes glanced at the women again before he stepped aside to allow all of them entry. Eve had a knowing look on her face, while Cassandra immediately dropped her eyes the moment he looked in her direction and a tiny shy smile came to her lips. "Please, come in. Is there something amiss?"
"We've come to discuss something with you," Flynn announced as he passed the tall Companion, sweeping his black hat from his head at the same time. The women fell into step behind him but said nothing.
"Of course," Jenkins answered noncommittally as he closed the door. He turned and raised a hand to indicate the spacious main room of the house where he met his patients. "Please, make yourselves comfortable." As soon as everyone was seated, Flynn launched into the purpose for the small group's early visit.
"Cassandra has confirmed to us that she finds you suitable to be her Companion." Carsen proclaimed, unconsciously using his preaching voice as he made the declaration. "We have come to set a date for the Ritual of Binding!" Jenkins, caught off-guard, looked around at the others. Eve's head was held high, a triumphant expression on her face. Cassandra, however, had her eyes fixed demurely on the floor at her feet, her hands clutched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white. As the parson's words sank in, however, the old Companion's heart began to beat quickly in his chest.
"I-I am pleased to hear this news; most pleased!" he gushed enthusiastically. Since the night they had declared their love for one another, he and Cassandra had had some wonderful, frank conversations about most topics that concerned a witch and her Companion—everything from magic and life in general all the way down to what their favorite foods were. And there were the increasingly physical displays of affection, as well, when they were sure no one else could see them—embraces, kisses, cuddling and petting. To his mind he and Cassandra seemed to be very compatible. The only thing they did not speak about with any real depth was the Ritual of Binding itself. Any time he tried to bring up the topic, Cassandra would deftly dodge the issue and quickly turn the conversation to something else. He knew that she was fearful of their first time of intimacy together, and he did his best to reassure her that everything would be fine, but he was beginning to think that she was still having serious reservations about having him as her Companion after all and simply didn't know how to tell him so. Thrilled, now, that his mistress wished to set a date for the ritual, Jenkins got up from his chair and went to kneel in front of the still-silent sorceress.
"I swear to you, Mistress—you will have no cause to regret this decision! I shall serve you to the best of my abilities until Death parts us!" he said vehemently. Then, to the young woman's shock, he bent low before her in a Companion's traditional act of obeisance, until his forehead touched the cold stone floor. "Thank you for choosing me, Mistress!"
"No! Do not do that!" Cassandra cried and slid off her own chair to kneel with him. Surprised, Eve and Flynn watched as she placed her hands on either side of Jenkins's head and gently pulled him up until she could look into his face. "I have told you before, I am not a queen, Jenkins! Do not bow to me as though I am!" The pure love that shone in his brown eyes sent that familiar delicious tremor through her small body.
"You are the queen of my heart, Mistress," he murmured, almost fiercely, "For I have fallen in love with you—utterly and completely! I feared that you would reject me in the end after all; to hear that you wish to choose a Binding Day fills me with such happiness! I shall always be yours to command, Mistress!" Cassandra lightly stroked his soft cheek with her fingertips and gave him a smile that pierced his heart like an arrow-strike.
"Then it is my command that you be my Companion," she said firmly as she looked deeply into his eyes. "But you must stand by my side, like a true Companion!" She looked up briefly and nodded toward the Carsens. "I want us to be like Eve and Flynn; I have told you all of this already, that I want us to be equals! No more groveling at my feet like a slave. You must promise me this, Jenkins!" The immortal pulled himself up straight and laid a hand over his heart, solemnly bowed his head to her.
"I so swear to you, Mistress, freely and willingly," he intoned, "As long as you will have me, I am yours to command!" Her thin shoulders, dismayed that he didn't seem to understand that she didn't want a servant so much as she wanted a partner in life. She glanced up at the Carsens and was astounded to see a wide grin of amusement on Flynn's face.
"It took Eve a while to understand, as well!" he gleefully stage-whispered to the young woman. Cassandra looked at Eve next; the Companion merely shrugged and nodded in agreement, a look of wry apology on her lovely face.
"Companions are created to be servants, it is all we know after we have been summoned," Eve explained quickly, then nodded at the still-kneeling Jenkins. "Give him time. He will learn soon enough, just as I did with Flynn." Relief washed over Cassandra at the older woman's words of reassurance. She turned her attention back to Jenkins.
"Very well, then," she said, resolution in her voice, "Stand up, Jenkins, please! We have a great deal of planning to do."
"Starting with choosing the date for your Binding ceremony!" Eve pressed on firmly, glad to be able to move things along at last. Flynn jumped up from his chair excitedly.
"Which I will leave you three to discuss!" he said brightly, clapping his hands and rubbing them together as he looked around them. "I will go to the kitchen and make breakfast for us all. I have not had my porridge yet this morning and I am absolutely famished!"
The first day of February was set as the most propitious for the Ritual of Binding. It was Imbolc on the old pagan calendar, a day that celebrated fertility and rebirth as the earth began to warm again in earnest after the winter's frozen sleep; its non-Christian connection made Cassandra uncomfortable at first, but she quickly overcame her hesitancy when she learned that it was particularly fortuitous day for a Binding and when she saw how happy Jenkins was now that a decision had been made.
Now Cassandra, Eve and Jenkins were wandering amongst the shops and stalls of the market area of the village, looking for items needed for the ritual itself and for the modest celebration they had planned for afterward. Imbolc was only two weeks away and there were still many preparations to be made. The women did most of the actual shopping; Jenkins gladly acted as their pack mule for the trip after he had seen the last of that morning's patients. His long arms were already full of several packages and bundles of goods and food.
"Oh!" Cassandra suddenly cried out, then dashed through the crowds to one stall that was selling dried blueberries. She picked up a handful from a basket and held it up to her nose as she breathed the scent in deeply. She turned to Eve and Jenkins, her face glowing. "Look, Eve! Blueberries! Would it not be wonderful to have sautauthig for the meal after our Bi—!"
"It would, indeed!" Eve cut in hastily, and she gave the younger woman a warning look. "Reverend Carsen is very fond of sautauthig!" Pronounced "sawí-taw-teeg", Cassandra spoke of the corn pudding staple that the natives had taught the original Pilgrims to make and which had become a popular dish among the English colonists. Eve bent over as though to smell the blueberries in Cassandra's hand.
"Take care!" she whispered sharply, so that only Cassandra could hear her. "Never speak of the Binding in public!" She stood upright again. "We must be sure to buy some before the Bishop's visit." She said this loud enough for the sour-faced woman manning the stall to overhear. Eve smiled at the woman as she waved for Cassandra to replace the berries into the basket. "Come along, Mistress Cillian!" Without waiting for an answer, the minister's wife turned to walk away, but walked instead straight into a tall, elderly man. He glared down at her, irritated.
"Magistrate DuLaque!" Eve exclaimed in surprise, and backed away from the man. "M-my apologies, sir! I did not see you!" DuLaque perfunctorily touched the brim of his hat and stiffly bowed to the woman.
"No need, Goodwife Carsen," he answered flatly. His eyes then turned to Cassandra, and he repeated the gestures. "Mistress Cillian! How good to see you this fine day! I have not seen you at Sabbath services since your father died last Fall—I hope you are well?" His gaze did its usual hungry sweep her small cloaked body before settling on her face again. He then spotted Jenkins looming behind her, his face like stone as he glared at the magistrate. DuLaque's smile quickly soured for just a moment before he pasted a false one back onto his face.
"Doctor Jenkins," he greeted the tall man coldly with a nod. Jenkins raised his head imperiously.
"Magistrate," he replied disdainfully, but DuLaque had already turned his attention back to the women. "It is fortuitous that we meet today, Mistress Cillian. The Council is concerned by your absence from Sabbath services." He shot an icy look at Jenkins. "Yours, as well, Doctor."
"I hardly see how church attendance is any concern of the Village Council," Jenkins answered crossly.
"Do you not?" DuLaque exclaimed, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. He then narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Surely, Doctor Jenkins, you know that to intentionally miss Sabbath services is a violation of the laws of the Colony?"
"Doctor Jenkins understands the law!" Eve cut in, casting a quick glance of warning at the tall man before turning to face DuLaque.
"Does he—and Mistress Cillian, for that matter—also understand that wantonly violating the law comes with consequences?" DuLaque snapped back, and raised his eyes to glare at the now silent Jenkins.
"Mistress Cillian is in mourning!" Eve argued, "And Doctor Jenkins often has to tend the sick on Sundays!"
"Since November?" DuLaque sneered, "That is hardly an excuse! 'Remember the Sabbath, to keep it holy'! That is the law, from the mouth of God Almighty Himself—which both Mistress Cillian and Doctor Jenkins appear to spurn with impunity!"
"Was it not your—er—our Lord who said 'The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath'?" Jenkins spoke up with deliberate impudence, "And do not his words supersede those of the Old Testament?"
Medusa herself could not have cast and more malevolent look at the Companion as did the magistrate at that. DuLaque then pretended to brush something off of the front of his clothes. "I have spoken up on Cassandra's behalf in Council meetings, but if she continues to flout the law she—and Doctor Jenkins—will be sent to the stocks for their willful sin!" Eve pressed her lips together as her eyes bored into the magistrate's.
"Reverend Carsen is the spiritual authority in Endor, not the Village Council—and not you, Magistrate DuLaque," she said slowly, a threat clearly heard in each word. "And Reverend Carsen has granted both of them permission to miss Sunday services if they have need to do so!"
The air became thick with tension as magistrate and Companion tried to stare down one another. Fearful of an open confrontation, Cassandra was about to suggest that they needed to move on, but at that moment Jenkins spotted the young man, Ezekiel, standing behind the magistrate. Ezekiel's head was held lower than usual, as if he was trying to hide his face. He held the several packages in his arms high as a further aid in hiding himself, but Jenkins still caught sight of an angry-looking red splotch on the young man's throat that continued beneath the collar of his shirt. It was a fresh injury and, despite his best efforts, the young man's face clearly displayed the pain he was feeling.
Without a word Jenkins stooped and carefully deposited the bundles he was carrying onto the ground, breaking the tense standoff between DuLaque and Eve Carsen. He then stepped past all of them to go to Ezekiel. He was startled by the Companion's sudden approach and he backed away from Jenkins, casting a look of panic towards DuLaque.
"What do you think you are doing?" the magistrate demanded of Jenkins sharply, but the immortal ignored him and spoke instead to the injured man.
"There is no reason for fear; I am a physician," he said calmly, "I only wish to look more closely at your neck, if I may?" By now Eve and Cassandra were showing an interest, which in turn was starting to pique the curiosity of a few others in the market. DuLaque turned and glared at his servant.
"Let him look!" he barked. The injured man instantly obeyed and stood stock still. Even so, he couldn't help wincing in pain as Jenkins gently tilted his head up so he could get a better look at his neck. It took only a moment for Jenkins to make his diagnosis.
"This is a scalding, a bad one!" he said and turned to face DuLaque. "What happened here?" The magistrate shrugged, unconcerned.
"An accident, no doubt; he is terribly clumsy," he said in an irritated tone, then turned to look down at the young man. "Is that not so, boy?" Ezekiel quickly nodded his head, but all could see the uneasiness in his dark eyes.
"Yes, Master," he agreed at once. Jenkins glowered at the old man.
"'Master'?" he questioned acidly, "Is this man a servant or a slave?"
"I hardly see how that is your concern," DuLaque answered churlishly. Jenkins opened his mouth, a sharp retort at the ready, when Cassandra suddenly darted forward and lightly placed her hands on Ezekiel's shoulders.
"Come, Master Ezekiel!" she said loudly, a smile of encouragement on her face. "Your wound needs tending! We will take you to the Physician's House. Scalds can be treacherous; infection easily sets in if they are not treated properly!" She gently turned the panic-stricken man in the direction of the Physician's House as she looked back at Jenkins. "Come, Doctor Jenkins! I will help you prepare the medicine needed for his treatment!" Ezekiel, wide-eyed with alarm, looked back at his master.
"Master?" he asked hesitantly, seeking his permission. DuLaque scowled but gave a sharp nod of assent.
"I suppose it would do no harm for our good doctor to have a look," he grumbled dourly with a shrug, addressing his words to Cassandra. "'Twould be a shame if the boy died of something curable; I spent a pretty penny to acquire such a unique specimen, after all." A shiver of disgust ran down the sorceress's spine and she turned away from him.
"By the by, Mistress Cillian!" DuLaque called lazily out before she could escape his loathsome presence, "I shall be stopping by the Parsonage soon. Despite your recalcitrance in attending church services, I wish to speak with Reverend Carsen about arrangements for us to be married as quickly as possible!" Cassandra whirled around and gaped at the leering magistrate.
"What?!" she gasped. At the same time, Jenkins took a step towards DuLaque, the Companion's face darkening with anger. Before Jenkins could reach DuLaque, however, Eve stepped between the two men, her hands raised as if keeping them physically separated without actually touching them.
"Take Ezekiel to the Physician's House, Mistress Cillian," she instructed the young woman, all the while keeping a warning gaze fixed on Jenkins, who in turn had his eyes locked onto DuLaque.
"Go and see to your patient, Doctor," Eve continued in a low voice, "I will finish the shopping myself. And do come to the Parsonage tonight for supper." Jenkins turned his attention to Eve. He paused only for a moment and then gave her a small bow.
"If that is your wish, Goodwife Carsen, then I am happy to obey," he answered tightly, "I shall see you and Reverend Carsen tonight, then." With a parting icy scowl at DuLaque, Jenkins turned and strode off with a pale-looking Cassandra and Ezekiel, while Eve stooped and began to gather up the bundles Jenkins had left behind. DuLaque turned to watch her, but offered no assistance.
"The doctor spends a great deal of time at the Parsonage," he commented in a snide tone. Eve glanced up from her task, searching the old man's face for his intentions.
"The doctor is a bachelor and has no servants," she answered flatly and went back to her packages. She decided it would be easiest to use her apron as a bag and quickly stripped it from her waist. "He and my husband have known each other for years. Offering him our hospitality while he is here is only proper."
"Ah, yes," DuLaque replied, sourly, "And how much longer will he be in Endor, do you think? He looks rather long in the tooth; surely he should be retired from practicing medicine by now? Enjoying a well-deserved rest in the comforts of Boston, I daresay…?" The hair on the back of Eve's neck tingled in warning; the magistrate was up to something.
"I expect he will stay as long as he is needed in Endor," she answered truthfully. She stood up with her bundled packages and gave the old man a look of cool triumph. DuLaque frowned at that.
"Speaking of hospitality," he went on, his tone changing, "I do want to meet with Reverend Carsen as soon as possible in regards to Mistress Cillian." He looked down and brushed some imaginary dust from his coat sleeves as he spoke. "I wish to make it official that I shall marry her as soon as humanly possible—ideally this coming Sunday, after services."
Eve gasped, shocked. DuLaque grinned, pleased at having finally gotten a reaction out of her. She quickly recovered from her surprise and narrowed her eyes as she stared up at the tall man, her blue eyes burning into his.
"That would a fool's errand, sir!" she snapped harshly, "Cassandra has no wish to marry you, nor would Reverend Carsen ever force her to do so!" DuLaque glared down at the fuming woman, his face darkening at her defiance.
"I shall overlook your sharp tongue out of respect for your husband and his position in the community," he growled dangerously, his pale blue eyes boring into hers the entire time. "But your impertinence will not be tolerated a second time, Goodwife! I am the Head Magistrate of this village, and you will give me the respect that is properly owed me!" He made a show of adjusting the sleeves of his immaculate doublet.
"Every house has a closet in which skeletons are concealed," he went on more slowly now, clearly relishing the words as he spoke them. "'Twould be a great pity if the closet in the parsonage should be opened for all to see, I am sure…?"
Eve bit back the sharp remark that was perched on the tip of her tongue and forced herself to lower her gaze. DuLaque had them over a barrel and she knew it; and now especially was not the time to bring the attention of the Village Council onto the Carsen household. She swallowed her anger and fought down the urge to wring this insufferable man's scrawny neck.
"I beg your pardon, Magistrate," she said, injecting a strained sweetness and humility into her voice. "I assure you that I meant no disrespect. My words were sharp only because your words took me by surprise."
"Oh?" he said haughtily as he peered down his nose at her.
"Oh, yes, Magistrate!" she replied, her tone wheedling now as her mind raced for a way to curb DuLaque's interest in Cassandra. And then the words were blurted out before she could stop herself.
"She is already betrothed to Doctor Jenkins!"
Eve winced and cursed her stupidity as she saw the expression on DuLaque's face go from shocked to infuriated in a matter of seconds.
"Betrothed?" he hissed, the blood draining from his thin face. "When did this happen? And why was I not consulted? I made it known weeks ago that I intended to marry Mistress Cillian!" Eve kept her eyes fixed submissively on the ground, but inwardly she smiled with satisfaction.
"I do beg your pardon, Magistrate," she said in an exaggeratedly ingratiating tone, "I thought that Reverend Carsen had informed you! The arrangements were made only recently; I will speak to my husband and ask him to come and speak to you about it immediately!"
"See that he does!" DuLaque fairly shouted, his anger barely under control.
"I shall, indeed!" Eve assured him breathlessly and gave him a quick bobbing curtsey for good measure.
What imp possessed her to do such a thing, she had no idea, but as Eve came out of the curtsey, she spun around and away from DuLaque at exactly the same moment as she slung her bulky bundle of goods over her left shoulder—catching the magistrate squarely in the side of his head and knocking him flat onto the cold muddy ground of the market. Shoppers nearby burst into delighted laughter at the sight of the fearsome magistrate sprawled in the slushy muck, but their laughter quickly died the moment he clambered back to his feet, turning baleful eyes onto the surrounding shoppers. At once people scattered like frightened birds, lest any be marked out by the unforgiving and vindictive official. He then turned on Eve Baird.
"Oh, sweet Lord, forgive me!" she cried with appropriate horror in her voice. She dropped her bundle and darted forward, began fussing over the furious man and trying to wipe away the muck with a small handkerchief but managing only to spread the mud marring his suit over a larger area of his clothing in the process.
"Magistrate DuLaque, forgive me, I beg of you!" she babbled as she worked, "I did not realize that you were so close to me! Are you injured? Perhaps we should go and see Doctor Jenkins, for the sake of caution—?" He roughly slapped her hands away.
"Enough, woman!" he snarled, and began to straighten out his dirtied clothes. "I need no physician, you clumsy cow! Begone, lest I change my mind and have Sheriff Stone put you into the stocks for assaulting me!"
"Yes, Magistrate! My apologies, Magistrate!" Eve scooped up the bundle and threw it over her shoulder again as she turned to run in the direction of the doctor's house, the bundle bouncing heavily against her back with each stride.
"And tell that wretched doctor to send my slave home at once!" DuLaque bellowed after her. Eve kept running and didn't answer, her mind now focused only on the mess she had created.
Forgive me, Jenkins; forgive me Cassandra! she thought as she hurried through the village. I have foolishly made things so much more difficult for both of you!