The Memory of Snow by Kirsty Ferry Read Free Book Online Page A

mentioned
witchcraft last week in the market, and she shuddered to think about that. The
dark arts. Animal sacrifice. Wishing ill on fellow human-beings. It was all so
wrong. Meggie knew how to heal people and how to help people. She knew how to
harness the forces of nature. She knew how to use herbs and plants to make
things better. She shook her head. How could people be so unkind to others?
Everything she did, was for the good of her fellow human beings. At least
nobody would suspect her of being a witch. Everyone knew that she was good and
only had good intentions. An image of Charles Hay flashed in her mind and Meggie
felt unsettled. He was the only person she didn’t trust. Yet he paid her well
for her services. She had no way of refusing Charles Hay’s demands. How could
she? His father was the most influential man in the village and his son could
do no wrong. So long as Charles’ reputation remained unsullied, everyone was
happy.
    Meggie said a quick prayer for the souls she had prevented
from being born, and sped up as she hurried to Coventina’s Well.
    ‘Blessed Coventina and the Water Nymphs – forgive me. I know
what I do is wrong. Yet I have no choice.’
    Another image of Charles Hay slipped into her mind; and she
quickly blotted it out as she squinted towards the Well, trying to make out the
shape she saw by it – she thought it was human, but whether it was male or
female, she could not tell. Part of her felt annoyed at the intrusion. Part of
her felt intrigued that someone else should be kneeling by the Well, as this
figure seemed to be doing. Were they worshipping Coventina as well? She hurried
up a little, and stumbled on the uneven ground. She picked herself up again and
ran to the Well.
     
    Meggie arrived by the stone structure and looked around the
area. Nobody was there. She wondered if it was the same person who had been on
the old fort a little while ago. Perhaps they had wandered off into the dip of
the valley and disappeared from sight. Ah, well. If they were important, they
would come back to her. Instead of worrying about it, she knelt down by the
Well and bowed her head in prayer. After a little while, someone spoke to her.
    ‘I thought I would find you here,’ The voice was soft and
round, full of the rolling nuances of the true Northumbrian. Meggie looked up
and smiled.
    ‘Alice!’ she said. ‘I was just thinking about you.’ This was
not far from the truth. Alice was the latest girl to suffer at the hands of
Charles Hay. She was Meggie’s closest friend. It had broken Meggie’s heart when
she had been approached this time. Alice had asked her first, as soon as she
realised. In truth, the brew Meggie had prepared was already working, when
Charles had demanded an audience with her. Yet she could not tell Charles this.
Alice had sworn her to secrecy and Meggie was loyal to her friends and enemies
alike – everything that needed to be secret, remained a secret. Alice smiled back
at her and sat down by her friend, hugging her knees to her chest. Her dark
hair was pulled back into a messy braid, accentuating her pretty face and dark
blue eyes. Meggie cast an appraising gaze over her friend. She looked older
than her seventeen years today.  It wasn’t surprising, considering what
had happened to her recently. Despite her prettiness, her face was pale and
there was a sadness about her eyes that hadn’t been there last week.
    ‘Are you well, my love?’ Meggie asked, sitting back on her heels.
‘Mr Hay asked me to check anyway, but I need to know for my own sake. Alice
shrugged her shoulders but didn’t answer. She looked out over the countryside
and the remains of the fort.
    ‘I’ve always loved it out here,’ said Alice, evading the
question. ‘I’m not surprised you do as well. But it is a strange place.’
    Meggie nodded, shredding some flower heads into tiny
trumpets, ready to throw into the Well.
    ‘It is strange for those folk who do not understand it. For
those who