The Skull by Christian Darkin Read Free Book Online

the monster were not his only secrets. It was well known, though rarely discussed, that Elizabeth was able to acquire foreign trinkets for the villagers, and that she would often pay over the odds for sacks of wool, which then strangely disappeared. The villagers assumed that her son somehow managed to evade the coastguard,and make a small living selling smuggled wool to the French, but it was in nobody’s best interest to know for certain where he went when he disappeared for days on end. And absolutely nobody knew what or whom he brought back when he returned.
    He swallowed and started to speak. ‘The French crops don’t grow because of magic and spells,’ he said as levelly as he could. ‘They grow because of this.’ He pulled out a small bag, and upended it on the middle of the table. A cascade of beans rattled out, surrounding the little statue and rolling into the curious hands of the villagers.
    They were much darker and richer-looking than the seeds the farmers were used to planting, and William watched their brows wrinkle as they assessed them.
    â€˜I was… um… given them by someone who visited France,’ he continued, allowing himself a small smile at what everyone knew was a lie. ‘They’re stronger than the seeds we use here, and they harvest earlier. They also improve the soil for next year’s crops.’
    He looked around the room, but nobody spoke. He could tell that he’d lost them. When harvests failed, it seemed most farmers could easily believe their crops had been sabotaged by evil spirits. Trying to persuadethem to accept that, in fact, they were planting the wrong kind of seeds seemed wholly impossible.
    There was a long silence, and one by one the farmers shifted their gaze back from the seeds to the little statue. William looked at his mother, and she shrugged helplessly.
    â€˜We should put our trust in the power of the Lady,’ said Juliana. The others started to nod.
    â€˜This? This is going to bless our crops?’ The words burst out of William. He picked up the statue in his fingers. ‘This is going to save our village? This little charm is going to feed us?’ He tossed it back onto the table, exasperated.
    Juliana smiled. ‘It won’t, of course. The boy’s right.’ She was in control now and she knew it. ‘With this we can bless but a few grains of seed. That’s all.’
    â€˜Then what exactly are you asking of us?’ Elizabeth’s tone was open and friendly, but her question was impossible to dodge.
    â€˜We need a much older, more powerful Lady,’ Juliana said. ‘In France they have a cart. They have used it for centuries. Inside is the image of the Lady and her tributes. They add a sheaf from the last harvest, flowers, some other magic tokens.’ William rolled his eyes. ‘They take her from village to villageto bless the crops.’ She looked around the room. ‘When have the French crops failed? Never!’
    Juliana was looking only at William now. Her voice was softer. ‘If only there was someone who could trade with the French, purchase a loan of the cart and fetch it back here – just for a week, to bestow her blessings on our fields.’
    Surely she was joking. William knew the farmers in France well enough, and there were at least a couple who might sneak the cart out for him and down to the shore if he could promise to get it back in a week or two, but it would take a hefty bribe. It would bankrupt the village – and for what?
    William stood up. He had no more than opened his mouth to make it clear what he thought of the old woman’s plan when the door banged open on its hinges and a young man in a green coat appeared in the doorway, cutlass drawn. William sat down immediately and sank back, out of the candlelight.
    â€˜I visit you as a riding officer of His Majesty’s Customs…’ the young man began, addressing the room without