Children of the May (Children of the May Book 1)

Chapter Fourteen: The Hermitess

By the time I reached the top of the steps I could no longer hear the beast. I hoped the others would be alright, even Accolon.

I was breathing hard from the climb, so I stopped at the top of the stairs and looked around me. From the top I could see the sea in three directions: the hut faced east, and from its doorless entrance the castle on the cliffs was visible; to the south were portions of the horses’ plain and the beach – I even thought I could make out the top of the stone cross; and there was more sea to the west. I could not see north – that direction was obscured by higher hills than the one we had climbed, but if there was more sea beyond those hills, then we were on an island.

It was a beautiful view from the top of the bald hill, but other than the hut and the castle, only trees, grass and sand were visible. There was no hint of smoke, or any other signs of human life. The only inland clearings were along river, which ran from the highest hills, down past the foot of the bald hill, and then along beside the shadow path, to the waterfall and the valley that were hidden from sight.

Alisander was standing at the entrance of the hut, peering into the darkness.

‘I-I-I-I-I-Is anyone in there, Alisander?’

‘No, Sir Drift, but there’s a fire inside.’

‘I-I told y-you, I’m n-n-n-not a sir.’

I poked my head through the entrance of the hut. Its only light came from the doorless entrance, through the gaps between the stones that made up its walls, the smoke-hole in the roof, and a weak smoulder of the fire in the centre of the floor. There had been someone here, then, and recently. The main scent was the sweet smoke of dry leaves and small twigs, but underneath that fragrance were the foul smells of whoever lived there. The hut’s inhabitants did not wash often, that much was obvious.

‘I-I-I-I-I-Is anyone h-here?’ I said into the murk.

‘Can we come in please?’ said Alisander.

There was no response.

‘I-I-I-I-I-I think we’ll be alright if w-we w-wait inside for a while.’

We went into the warm gloom. The floor was made of dirt and dust, except for directly underneath the smoke-hole, where a puddle of mud had made itself a permanent fixture. There was no furniture, only a large pile of dirty rags, which I guessed served as both bed and bedclothes to the hut’s owner. I tested the back wall to see if it was sturdy, and when I found it was we sat with our backs to it, looking through the weakly puffing smoke out towards the castle and the blank grey sea.

I took Christian out of the sling and put him on my knee. He was much calmer after his drink, but still needed food. We all needed something to eat, assuming the others hadn’t been devoured by the Questing Beast. I felt guilty about letting Piers lead the monster away from us – he had already suffered from the monster’s snapping jaw; it was someone else’s turn.

I was lost in that thought when Alisander grabbed my hand. ‘Drift,’ he whispered. ‘Can you hear that? Is that the monster?’

At first there was only the crackle of the fire, but then I heard a quiet wheezing sound somewhere inside the hut.

‘I-I-I-It’s just the wind –

‘Pagans,’ spat a new voice in an empty throaty hiss.

I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding.

‘I smell pagans.’ The voice was very ancient, and belonged to someone who didn’t often speak. ‘Interrupting my prayers. Where are they? Where’s the pagans?’

‘W-W-Who’s there?’ I said, my voice squeaking.

‘Where is it, pagans? I see them.’