Free The Sevenfold Spell by Tia Nevitt Page B

Occasionally someone would report a lone man with wagon and mule. I followed his trail until the city was in sight.
    I went straight to the farm. After some thoughts of waiting for him after dark again, about taking him to the barn and reliving some very warm memories, in the end I decided that the mature thing to do would be to go up and knock on the door. I arrived at twilight, just after the evening meal would have concluded.
    Willard’s unmarried sister Charlotte answered the door.
    “Talia the Tart! What are you doing here?”
    “Good evening.” I swept by her and looked at the faces arrayed around the room. My eyes rested briefly at the three other Farmer sons before stopping on Old Man Farmer, who even now was lifting himself out of his seat on palsied arms.
    “You! You strumpet! Get out of my house.”
    “Gladly. I’m here for Willard. If he’s not here, then there’s little point in my staying.”
    “What do you mean, you’re here for Willard?”
    “Have you not heard from him? He’s left the monastery.”
    “Left the monastery! That’s nonsense.”
    “But he has. I just came from there. The abbot dismissed him.” They all stared at me in incomprehension for a moment. Then, a babble of voices broke out. “But, since you want me to leave,” I said over the confusion, “that’s what I must do.”
    I turned to leave.
    “Wait!” I turned back. Old Man Farmer took another step toward me. “What do you mean, the abbot dismissed him? You don’t dismiss a monk!”
    “He never became a monk. He refused to take the vows. Finally, the abbot turned him out.”
    “When?”
    “Not a month ago.”
    “A month ago? He ought to have arrived home by now.”
    “I thought so too,” I said. “But since he’s not here, I must look elsewhere.”
    Again, I turned to leave. I felt his clawlike hands grasping my upper arms and clenching with surprising strength.
    “You’re going nowhere, girl. Not until I’ve said my say.” He turned to glare at Charlotte. “Get the young ones out of here.”
    I watched with interest as the children left the room. I had no doubt that they’d be able to hear perfectly from the next room.
    The old man turned to me. “Now,” he said. “There’re some things I’ve been wanting to say to you for fifteen years, now.”
    “Seventeen,” I said.
    “Eh?”
    “It’s been seventeen years since you ended our betrothal and sent Willard off to a monastery.”
    He glared at me for a moment, and then slammed his cane into the floor. “I will not be made the villain here! You ruined my son with your…your wanton ways. It’s no surprise that he was unable to make the commitment of a priest.”
    “Well, I could easily counter that you ruined my life by taking my only chance at marriage away from me.”
    “Why should he have saddled himself with you?”
    “Because he wanted me.”
    “Wanted you, eh? He went off to the monastery, after all, didn’t he?”
    That hurt me, and I wanted to hurt him back.
    “Yes, he wanted to be the honorable son. And he has been. Even after you took advantage of our sudden poverty to deny him his choice of a bride, only to get rid of him the instant he turned twenty. What kind of father is that?”
    “What kind of young maiden spreads her legs as you did? Because of you, I spent the last three weeks I had with my son fighting with him every minute.”
    “No, sir. You’re the one who sent him away. Had I married him, you would have celebrated my eagerness for your son, not called me a whore.”
    “Only until we discovered your womb is as lifeless as a salted field. Thank God he didn’t get saddled with a barren wife.”
    “I suppose you imagine the sterile life of a monk preferable to a happy life with a barren wife.”
    “That’s enough. Get out.”
    “Gladly.”
    I turned, opened the door and walked out. Or rather, I tried. Instead, I walked right into the broad chest of a man standing on the stoop. He reached out and caught me before I