The Arsenic Melody

Chapter 3

He lay awake during the night.

Worried that the wise woman’s words could be true and determined that they were not. But it was a different sound which unsettled him, the cooing of an owl in a nearby tree kept him awake and active, it was enough to haunt his dreams and cause his superstitious mind to stir. He decided by morning that he would leave the village. An odd sense had descended on him

There was still a bit of money to be made here, and trading to be done. But his gut told him it would be better to leave the town. He stayed awake for lack of sleep, listening to the strange sounds of the night and whether self-conscious or real some of what he heard deeply unsettled him. The most relevant of these sounds were the coos of an owl nearby, he could not help but imagine that in the dark of the night it sat watching him. The thought of such vulnerability, such uncontrollability, forced him to stay awake. But he had a lingering fear to leave his room and even questioned how he would do so in the morning.

Soon light passed over him and his eyes flickered open, he had no recollection of sleep and his body felt tired but he had most definitely dosed off. The same locals sat by the bar area and the inn looked the same as the day before, but felt unnervingly different. Like a ghost or invisible entity had changed the place in the night; with acceptance of the old hopeful man, it was the same people adorning the bar. And they spoke in a happy and carefree way. He began to question his sanity but again his spine chilled. The course hair on his wrists stood and he felt a cold breeze in the heated room. He ate quickly barely giving thanks before donating a spare coin to the kind woman and leaving.

There were many people still in the town; but the sheer number of walkers and speakers felt suffocating, he nervously descended the path, one of the few people attempting to leave the town; and as he traded his coins for cheese and provisions, the ginger woman stood next to him, she cradled something in his arms, which he first assumed to be bread as it was entirely covered. But the sheer tenderness convinced him that it was an infant. She followed him from stall to stall, matching his provisions and mimicking his barter skills, and some of the sellers began to assume they were simply travel mates and naturally gave her the same quantity and goods as he had, even after he was done and readied himself to leave. She again followed him walking behind him, now with another old woman following her. They left the city and about an hour from the town he turned to address them, the woman with robe looked up silently with a anger in her eyes.

“I will pay you whatever you need. There is nowhere to go but North, even if you only take us to the next town. We need to go there and I cannot leave.”

“So desperately that you would follow a stranger into dangerous lands?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, so be it. I will not be held responsible for the fate of you, the crone or the young thing.”

“Fine, just defend us enough to defend yourself.”

They walked quietly and although the old woman began to lag behind the group, they never asked to change pace or pause. Pettily Odis walked slightly faster than usual; and sometimes, he would speed up even more, just to spite his new walking mates. He also thought of the audacity to force their lives into his hands, surely in a business proposition consent was an essential fee. He had half a plan to exhaust them and walk on in the night. The country lands here were not dangerous: they had a pleasant feeling, if they could survive the night by a fire, they could likely walk back home. He was also tempted to loop back to the village, they would not know the roads or directions if he turned them at dusk or dawn. However, he still could not shake the lingering nervousness; that also affected the pace at which he nearly ran, but for some reason he found the young girl to not only keep up but noticed her nervous glances back.

As though she too was eager to leave the town behind.

“How much can you actually pay?” He asked her as she brought wood the base of the fire that night, as she held the baby close to her refusing to pass it to the midwife. “You’re not royalty by any chance, are you?” He joked, and added wood from the pile onto the fire, before standing and walking towards the edge, where he had a clear view of the rolling green pastures they had walked past. She poked the fire with a stick and set it to burn, holding it from the rest of the flames with a sense of admiration. The light of the fire fell on her fair face; the dark green of her cloak merging into the forest beyond. With the other hand she held, the thing, which he could only see as a possible baby, unless it was a doll for its shape. But it was still fully covered and had said nothing on their journey so far.

“I can pay enough,”

“You do not have the energy or health of a woman who has just given birth. And yesterday you were not pregnant or carrying a child, who’s infant is that?”

“Mine.”

“Just tell me I have not taken part in a kidnapping.”

“The child is not from my body, but my heart. I promised a dear friend I would take them both North. But she passed.”

“In childbirth?”

“Yes.”

“It will also pass, if you cover its nose and mouth like that.”

“They won’t”

“A girl or a boy.”

She moved her legs uncomfortably and brough the baby closer to her chest. She seemed uncertain of what to answer but eventually she took a breath and responded. “I am not sure.”

“The midwife couldn’t tell you? otherwise I am sure, I could tell if you lack the propriety to check.” She pulled the baby away dipping its head over her shoulder and standing.

He took a step back raising his hands; and looked at the girl, she looked scared, and he was in no rush to push any wild thing into a corner. “Get some rest, the midwife could surely watch the child.” The girl walked over to her and slowly handed down the bundle. The midwife smiled and murmured rocking it back and forth as she began to hum a happy tune. It was an unsettling site.  

The girl, went relatively close to them and curled up, still watching the old woman until she fell asleep. Only one of them needed to be awake and the old woman seemed to have high energy now.

He sat against the tree and watched the woman; with red unblinking eyes she rocked backyards then forwards faster and faster humming the same tune. He could not sleep with such a sight. Eventually he decided to approach her.

“What is your name?”

She ignored him humming louder and rocking faster.

“Excuse me, what is your name.” He touched her shoulder and the woman screamed. It was blood curdling and she held the baby strongly to her chest, bent over it. He took a few steps backwards as the girl raced forward and took the child from her arms, immediately the singing stopped and she closed her eyes drifting to sleep.

“What the actual fuck?” Odis could not bring himself to ask any other question.

“I’m not sure. She delivered the child and from the moment she touched him it was that way. I was scared so I took him away and she went quiet. But my friend. My friend assured me that she would protect the child when I could not and she has followed me and the baby since.”

“Who was your friend?”

“A village girl, only a year older than me, her name was Claire. She was raped by some guards and she had the baby. She died a few minutes after it was born, but she acquired a wisdom before that while she carried him, like she knew about her death and knew about many things. It was odd.”

“Odd?” He repeated and grabbed his bag. “This is the devils doing, and I will have no part in it.”

With his bag and sword, he abandoned his blanket by the fire and walked out across the forest, diagonal to the road which cut through it. The old ladies tune played in his mind louder and louder as he walked away from the group: Out of order, tripping on routes, struggling to know which direction he should walk in. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Run, run, run. His breath steamed in the night air as he picked at straws and the woman’s mumbles were replaced by a familiar voice. Not a singer’s voice, a voice as heavy and untrained as a homemade blanket, soft brown eyes and days in the sun. A lullaby from his childhood. The type of thing that convinced him to drop to his knees and surrender to the darkness around him.

Da, Da, Da To the market, we should go?

Straight, and narrow, down the wilted road.

Split to the left to the abitur

 Split to the right to the market

And the little lamb, should go.

Go, go, go. To the market.

Trade the wool and the skin off your back

For some very nice linen and jam.

Yes, little lamb, good, good, good, as much as you can give.

One for the farmer;

One for your mam.

One for the pauper and one to beg

Give, give, give to me

All the yumminess you can possibly

And to the family’s table

Give them a leg.

A motten, mutton, rotten breakfast

For the wicked witches of the west.

To eat, eat, eat.

“Please wait.” The girl cried and followed him with a quickly burning and crude torch.

The old woman followed half crawling after them over the forest floor. “Please we cannot survive in these woods alone and it just a baby, please have mercy.”

He heard a ruffle of leaves.

“Quite.”

The girl went silent and listened, getting as close to him as she could and a howl cried. Then a low growl and the torch light found eyes in the darkness. The girl whimpered in dismay and stood close to his back as he braced his sword. He faced it towards the wolf, more likely a warg, that now walked confidently towards them. Noises of its pack, paws padding the forest floor, and alerts sounded out around them. Odis looked towards the huge black wolf, and it looked defiantly back into his eyes, The girl pushed a hand against his back. Two smaller grey wolves emerged before her and jumped at the baby. With a cry and scream the old woman barreled into the nearest wolf surprising it. But the other quickly turned and grabbed her arm. She continued mindlessly biting and tearing at the first wolf. Almost unaware that the other had grabbed her; He felt hands near his belt and then a lost weight as the girl grabbed a knife and threw it to the old woman. She reached for it and grabbed it and brutally stabbed the wolf then the other, continuously until neither stood standing. The two wolves cried on the floor and the warg watched curiously then walked forward. Odis raised the sword and swung it down at the Warg. He stepped quickly to the side, but could not avoid his next swing which was diagonal to his last. It cut the creatures side and he moved back, then howled. The other wolves responded and they all moved to leave, he looked back as he strode into the darkness, and perhaps it was the sleep deprivation or the insanity of the day. But he could swear that the wolf nodded in approval of him.