But was there a need, and, if so, just what was it?
If he could get her alone, Reynold thought he might be able to discover the truth, but that idea led his mindin another, more tantalising direction until he put a stop to it. He needed to keep a clear head, lest he become just another addled admirer of Mistress Sexton. Even if she wasn’t a liar, experience had taught him to be wary of women, especially beautiful ones, for they had no interest in a man like him.
‘Very well,’ Reynold said. ‘I shall hear you out.’
The look of relief on her face made Reynold uncomfortable, and he stayed well back when she led the way out of the church. From that position, he could keep a wary eye on the pitchfork, lest it find its way into his back.
Gathering the reins of their horses, Reynold and Peregrine retraced their route round the curve in the road, then followed a short track to the small manor. It looked like any to be found in a little village, solidly built of stone and slate, except for the forlorn aspect and the grass that was growing too tall around, proclaiming its neglect.
Inside, the hairs on the back of Reynold’s neck stood up again, for he had never seen a hall such as this: empty, lifeless and silent except for their own footsteps. Mistress Sexton’s voice, when it rang out, nearly made him flinch.
‘Adele,’ she called. ‘Come out, for it is safe now. And we have guests.’ A woman hurried in from the kitchens, fright etched upon her worn features, but at the sight of the boy she cried out and ran forwards.
‘Alec!’
Throwing her arms around the lad, she wept with apparent relief, and for the first time this day, Reynold began to wonder whether he was in the wrong, for whowould pretend such fear and joy? The words of the l’Estrange sisters might be coincidence or otherwise, but these people did not seem capable of perpetrating so enormous a hoax. Indeed, Reynold felt a bit ashamed of his assumption that even here, so far from Campion, the de Burghs would hold sway.
With a glance, he took in the small band that appeared to be the only inhabitants of the village: one sullen fellow who looked unable to defend himself, let alone others; a boy younger than Peregrine; the boy’s mother, obviously a servant; and the two other women.
As if divining his thoughts, Mistress Sexton turned towards him. ‘This is all that is left of Grim’s End,’ she said, her bearing proud none the less. ‘Will you hear our story?’
Over a simple meal of cheese, dried apples, and some kind of egg dish, Mistress Sexton spoke. ‘It began even before spring, so that few proper crops were put in, and the winter seed was destroyed. Animals were killed and their owners were run off.’
‘People were afraid. They would rather start anew than face the beast,’ Urban said, and Reynold couldn’t tell whether he was disgusted with those who fled or wished he had joined them.
‘We learned to hide when we heard it coming,’ the boy Alec said.
‘We have little growing except small, scattered gardens, and no cows or pigs or oxen. And what food we have stored cannot last indefinitely,’ Mistress Sexton said.
Obviously, they were frightened of something, butany beast might kill animals or attack humans, and fires were usually the result of dry thatch and sparks, not burning breath. ‘Why a dragon?’ Reynold asked.
‘Someone woke it!’ Alec said, wide-eyed.
It had been sleeping? Before Reynold could comment, Mistress Sexton spoke. ‘Our village, Grim’s End, was founded by a dragon-slayer. You must have seen the mound across from the church.’
The odd hill. Reynold nodded.
‘’Tis said that the dragon is buried there, and when the attacks began, the villagers thought it had reawakened, though there were no disturbances in the earth.’
Reynold studied the small group carefully. No mummers these, but people who were definitely afraid of something. Of what, Reynold was less sure. Although he did not have